by G. Bailey
But there it is, in plain English. Hyde Park, the message reads. Speakers’ Corner. Come while it’s light out, and message when you’re on route. I will be waiting.
I feel a burst of hope as I relay the message back to my friends. “That’s… better than I was expecting,” says Silas.
“I’ll say,” Landon puts in. “I can’t think of anywhere more public than Hyde Park. And during the daytime…” He grins. “There will be people everywhere. It would be impossible for them to capture us without a bunch of bystanders seeing.”
“Not to mention the space,” adds Shade. “I don’t mind destroying a few sculptures if it means kicking a few of those bastards’ asses.”
“The risk is lower this way,” acknowledges Ruby. “I say we go for it.”
“There’s still one problem, though,” says Hunter, who has been silent the whole time. We turn to look at him questioningly, and he raises his eyebrows, gesturing around. “We still have no way of getting there,” he says. “Last I checked, we can’t just walk across the ocean.”
“Maybe you can’t,” teases Landon. “Hazel and I have the swimming thing locked down.”
The vampire shifter rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“What about Boots?” asks Shade, nodding in my direction. “You can shift into your witch form. You could teleport us over there.”
“That’s…” I splutter, feeling put on the spot. “That’s not possible. I’ve never transported anyone before!”
“But you have been taught the spell, haven’t you?” asks Silas.
“Technically, yeah,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck. “At least, I think so. If I can remember it. But, guys, come on… the faculty fellows have been doing this for years! You saw how exhausted they got after warping us to Boston. Do you really think I could get us all to London without fucking it up?”
“You’re stronger than any of us,” Hazel points out.
“What if I send us to the wrong place?” I protest. “Or worse, what if I lose focus and we end up getting dropped into the ocean?”
“Silas and I can help,” offers Ruby. “We can carry you guys to dry land, if we have to. I really think this is our best bet, Millie.”
I fidget, looking from one hopeful face to the next, not wanting to disappoint them but overwhelmed by my own insecurity. It’s true that I learned the theory of teleportation back in one of my witch shifting classes, but theory and practise are two very different things. The idea of any of the guys getting hurt because of me…
So what are you going to do, then? a voice in my head speaks up. It’s not like you have a lot of options, here.
I can feel myself resigning to it even before I open my mouth. “Okay,” I say quietly. “I can try.”
“Good,” says Silas, looking relieved. “Then we just need to find some place where we won’t be seen, and we can-”
“I hate to interrupt,” Landon says, his tone worrisome, “but I think it’s a little late for that.” He nods in the direction of the airport, and when I follow his gaze, my blood runs cold. Two of the Academy representatives by the front entrance are staring straight at us. One of them murmurs something to the other, and then they both begin moving rapidly in our direction.
“Shit,” says Shade. “We have to get out of here!”
Here goes nothing, I think, and close my eyes.
Chapter 6
In case it wasn’t clear already, I don’t have a great deal of faith in my own abilities. It’s less a matter of self-esteem, although considering the circumstances of my childhood, that’s not exactly stunning either. The issue is that I’ve had the equivalent of less than a year’s training in something not only incredibly difficult, but incredibly dangerous. It’s all made exponentially worse by the fact that I have five forms to keep track of, each with its own devastating supernatural abilities, and the last thing I want is to end up causing more problems than I solve with my own magic.
Even as I clamp my eyes shut, brow furrowing in concentration as I dig for that by-now familiar cool spot in my stomach -- my own personal reserve of magic -- I find myself panicking a little. What if I can’t manage it? Or worse, what if I only half manage it, and some of us don’t make it all the way? Oh god, I think, my heart pounding a little faster, or what if I end up dismembering us? I heard stories during my first few witchcraft lessons, cautionary tales about young witch shifters who got a little too enthusiastic with the teleportation and ended up losing limbs and organs because they weren’t focused enough to do a fully-fledged job. The idea makes me feel a little queasy, but there’s no time to worry about it now; I can hear voices coming from up ahead, and I don’t need to open my eyes to know that they’re coming from the Academy watchdogs. Those bastards.
“Millie, I don’t want to rush you,” Hazel says breathlessly, “but you might want to double-time it!”
“I’m trying,” I grit out through my teeth, trying to steady my breath long enough to summon enough raw power for the spell. The witch powers haven’t exactly come easily to me, and this is something so high-level that I’m not even sure it’s in my wheelhouse; that’s the problem with being a witch shifter: it’s not enough just to get into the form. After that you need to learn how to cast spells, something that doesn’t hinder any of the other species. It’s like learning an entirely new level of magic. I try to remember my training -- specifically, what Shade taught me about transforming -- and focus on the present moment. Which is not hard to do, considering the people currently coming after us. I bring my powers to the forefront and allow them to seep through my being. A surge of triumph washes over me as I can feel the coolness of my magic permeate my body, a telltale sign that I’m on the verge of transforming, and I open my eyes just in time to see my skin turning ruby red, the magic accessible to this form bursting out of my chest in a tidal wave.
“Atta girl,” Landon says, looking at me a little wonderingly as energy begins to radiate from my palms.
“Don’t congratulate me yet,” I warn him, rubbing my hands together and trying desperately to remember the spell. It sounded easy in theory when it was first explained to me: the key is to focus on your destination while allowing your raw power to engulf you and the people you’re transporting. Although now I’m quickly discovering that that’s easier said than done. London, I think, panic beginning to consume me as the Academy representatives draw ever closer. Come on. We need to get to London. Frowning, I try to concentrate on the city, imagining the big landmarks and the skyline over the water, as pretty and picturesque as a postcard. Extending my hands, I allow my powers to flow out…
But nothing happens. I crack open my eye, dismayed to see that we’re exactly where we were. Except there’s no time to troubleshoot; within moments the two lackeys are on top of us, and it’s clear in an instant that they’re no mere humans. The one on the left is already sprouting fur, drawing quite a few stares from the innocent bystanders, although I’m sure the other agents will be around in no time to do damage control. The one on the left exhales a jet of flame so hot that it burns blue in the warm Boston air. My eyes go wide, but Silas pushes me out of the way just in time, taking hold of my hand without even being aware of it.
“We have eyes on the escaped students,” the wolf yells, his voice loud and insistent. “We’re going to need backup!”
“Like hell,” mutters Landon, who is already transforming, and one look around at the group shows me he’s not alone; the others are all shapeshifting already, even Hunter, who seems to be having a slower go of it.
Shade is on the other wolf in an instant, the two beasts colliding in a growling mess of fur, claws and teeth. The dragon shifter is sprouting wings before our eyes, swiping out at Hunter with claws as sharp as daggers. The vampire shifter lunges out of the way, his superior speed saving him from being eviscerated, and Hazel opens her mouth to use her siren song, but Xander beats her to it, putting himself in front of her and lunging for the throat of the dragon shifter who has
now fully transformed. The skirmish is sudden and intense, and it takes me a moment to remember what I’m supposed to be doing; heart racing, I struggle to picture London again, willing my magic to get us there, but it still isn’t working, and I almost cry out in frustration.
It can’t have been more than a minute since we were first spotted, but already I can see the other Academy cronies approaching us fast; within seconds, we’ll be surrounded. “Boots-” says Shade, struggling to fend off the other wolf.
“I need time!” I protest. “We have to move, now!”
To their credit, the others don’t need to be told twice, and we pull back from the enemies as quickly as we engaged with them, whirling around and making a beeline in the opposite direction. A blast of fire sails over the top of my head, singing a few of the hairs there and making me wince. Silas, who still hasn’t let go of my hand, whirls around and unleashes a fireball of his own, this one considerably smaller than the other dragon shifter's, and I hear him swear under his breath.
More fire rains down on us, and I hardly dare to look to see whether the others are okay. Just have to find somewhere to work, I think, just need to buy a little time --
But as if on cue, other magic joins with the enemy fire, and I realise with a sinking feeling that they have us outnumbered. “Where do we go?” yells Ruby, ducking to avoid a blast of telekinetic energy from one of the others.
“I don’t--” I begin, but then my eyes go wide as I remember that we took the ferry to get here; we’re essentially trapped on this side of the city, like sitting ducks. In the distance, I can make out a couple of overpasses leading back in the direction we came from, but they’re covered, and clearly not meant for pedestrians; letting out a cry of frustration, I turn around and hurl a bolt of my own witch magic back at the closest pursuer, the wolf. It pushes him backward, and he stumbles, and we don’t waste any of the precious few seconds it buys us, tearing up to the edge of the water like our lives depend on it.
“Shit,” Hazel exclaims, staring down at the churning waves below us. In the distance, I can see the ferry, but it’s stopped on the other side of the water, no doubt waiting to bring another batch of passengers over; no help to be found there. “What do we do?!”
“Jump?” suggests Landon. We all stare at him for a moment and then back down at the murky water. It’s not the worst idea and considering our options…
I give him a firm nod, and without hesitation I leap into the water. Hazel yells out at me, but as soon as I hit the water and start paddling like my life depends on it, the others quickly realise I’m not drowning and follow me in. A few more blasts strike the surface of the water, sending up spouts of spray and steam, but our attackers’ accuracy is limited from up above, and we swim like we’ve never swum before, bolting to the left to put some distance between ourselves and the airport. I bob under the water, already digging for my magic, and when I come up I yell for Shade and Hunter to give me their hands. They oblige, linking up with the others so that we form a circle. “Any minute now, Boots!” says Shade.
I’m tempted to snark something back at him, but instead focus on concentrating; we’re not out of the woods yet. The water is freezing and filthy around me, getting in my eyes and dragging me down with its weight, but I force myself to think. What am I doing wrong?
It hits me in an instant, and I could almost kick myself for missing something so obvious: I wasn’t being detailed enough. It’s a bit like shapeshifting -- you need to be specific, or it won’t work. Once again I close my eyes and imagine London, but instead of a general view I focus on Speakers’ Corner itself: the colour of the leaves on the trees, the feeling of the dirt beneath my feet, the noise of the traffic on the nearby roads. And just like that, we begin to go intangible, the world around us fading to a blur only to be replaced with that same dirt and grass. I struggle to maintain my focus, throwing everything I have behind the spell…
And it works. Wiping the water out of my eyes, I look around to see that we’re standing in the late afternoon sun of London, still dripping wet, but exactly where we need to be. “You did it, Boots!” exclaims Landon, and I give him a weak nod before a wave of exhaustion hits me, making me stumble backwards.
Shade catches me, helping me onto a bench. “That was a hell of a workout,” he observes. “You all right, Boots?”
“I’ll be fine,” I pant. “Just need some time to rest.”
“I can’t believe you managed that,” Ruby says wonderingly. “And you took us straight here.”
“As long as we’re away from those Academy bastards, I’m happy,” Silas says dryly, sitting on my other side.
Shade puts an arm around my shaking shoulders, and I lean into the warmth of his body, exhaustion already threatening to overpower me. “Better text your contact now, Boots,” he tells me. “No time like the present, and all that.”
All I get in response from my mysterious ally is a terse reply of, Be there in half an hour, so we’re left to sit in the park and wait, hoping that whoever it is will be on our side after all. With the sun streaming down on me, I warm up rather quickly, although I still feel like I’ve run a marathon, no doubt the result of overexerting myself. I find myself sagging into Shade’s embrace, nearly nodding off a couple times as the wolf shifter absently runs his fingers through my hair, working the tangles out.
When I hear a voice calling my name, I’m sure I’m hallucinating. Not possible, I think groggily. I’m cracking up from the heat. I haven’t heard that voice in years. So long, now, in fact, that I had almost forgotten what it sounded like. And yet, my eyes go wide as a figure approaches us from further up the path, a person who might as well have stepped straight out of my past and into this new, crazy world. Disbelief filling me, I struggle to sit up. Peering at her with eyes that don’t buy what they’re seeing, I manage to utter one wonder struck word, the pendant in my boot rubbing insistently against the sole of my foot like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle.
“Mollie?”
Chapter 7
I feel like I’m in a dream. One would think that by now I would have learned not to make any assumptions about the world around me. Yet I find myself at a loss for words as I watch a phantom from my childhood cross over the swathe of grass to come to a stop right in front of me. She’s close enough to touch, and almost everything about her is like I remembered: the crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes, which are a bright cornflower blue; her stout stature; the way that she smiles. Her mousy brown hair is shorter than it was when I was living with her, and she’s lost some weight, but there’s no doubt in my mind that it’s her. This is the one woman I could have seen myself living with until adulthood, and yet, like so many other things, she was snatched away from me without any consent on my part.
Beneath the layer of awestruck wonder are so many questions that I barely even know where to begin. Mollie is human -- at least, that’s what I assumed -- and nothing happened during the time she was fostering me to give me the impression that she knew about shifters. What is she doing in London? How did she get in contact with me in the first place? What is her connection to all this? There are too many loose ends to process, and I find myself standing and staring at her, mouth agape, as I try to make sense of what I’m seeing.
“You probably have questions,” she says after what feels like an eternity. Her expression is gentle, understanding, and even as I stand there, I can feel something coming apart inside of me. She shuffles her feet, looking a little uncomfortable, and starts again. “I know this probably wasn’t what you were expecting, but-”
I cut her off, shooting to my feet in a heartbeat, my exhaustion from the teleportation spell all but forgotten. I throw my arms around her before I can even think about it, squeezing her as tightly as I dare and burying my face in her shoulder. She chuckles ruefully, a sound I thought I would never hear again, and I realise that I’m crying, staining her jumper.
“I’m sorry,” I stammer, pulling back, still at a loss. “Your sweater�
��”
“Hey, hey,” Mollie says, putting an arm on my shoulder as she looks at me. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the guys watching the display, looking curious and confused all at once. “Don’t worry about the sweater, Millie. To hell with the sweater.”
That gets a watery laugh from me, and I dab at my eyes self-consciously, in spite of the fact that I’m already dripping wet from the harbour. “I don’t even know where to start,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. “Why are you here, Mollie? How do you even know about…”
“Shapeshifters? Human splinter groups? The Academy?” At this last word, her expression darkens for a split second. “Would you believe me if I told you I’ve always known?”
I open and close my mouth a couple times, still scrambling to make sense of the situation. “How…?”
“Why don’t we take a walk?” Mollie suggests. “You look like you could stand to dry off a little. You all do, actually,” she amends, taking a skeptical look around at my ragtag group.
“Hang on a second,” Silas pipes up, taking a wary step forward. “I’m sorry, Boots, but you’re going to have to catch me up, here.”
“He’s not the only one who’s confused,” gripes Hunter.
“‘Boots’?” asks Mollie, laughing. “That’s quite the nickname.”
“Who is this woman, Millie?” asks Hazel, coming to stand on my other side.
“She’s a friend,” I explain, putting a hand on Mollie’s arm. “She was my foster mother, once upon a time.”
“I sure was,” Mollie agrees. “I’d still be, if I had my way. You were the best kid I ever took in, Millie, and I’m not just saying that because you’re a shifter.” She frowns. “Too bad we humans can’t seem to leave well enough alone.”