by Jenn Burke
I frowned. “I guess I could go out to Ren’s nightclub and—”
“No, I mean...” He lifted a hand from the steering wheel and wiggled his fingers. “You know.”
I subdued a shiver. “Use my magic?”
“Yeah.”
In theory, yes. I’d done it before—cast my magic in a wide net to blanket Toronto. I supposed I could do the same to identify new vampires? Maybe? But how much magic would that take? My magic had two potential sources: my believers and the beyond. The magic from my believers was my go-to source—safe, voluntarily given, and free for me to use. Access to the beyond, on the other hand, was what made gods so extraordinarily powerful. It was essentially unlimited magic, and I could do anything with it that I could imagine. But...not without a cost. Reaching into the beyond for magic ripped holes in the otherplane, which allowed creatures from the beyond to swarm through. I knew this from experience. Just thinking about it made my stomach clench and sweat break out along my brow. I needed to keep my magical plans small and manageable and safe.
“I don’t want to risk it.”
He tilted his head sideways in acknowledgment. “I can understand that.”
I debated the idea of paying Ren a visit in person, but tonight we were already booked.
If I believed in faeries—and I kinda-sorta did, thanks to Lexi’s teachings—Rouge Park was probably a place they hung out. It seemed to be in between worlds, with one foot in the mundane urbanity of the Greater Toronto Area, and the other foot in the wilderness that had fascinated generations of Canadians. Trees of all sorts bordered the parking area where we’d stopped—deciduous with their bright autumn colors, mostly bare now, and the pines that never changed. The air was crisp, both in temperature and scent. The plus-30-degree weather was definitely behind us, and I swore I could smell snow on the breeze, mixed with the aroma of mulch and pine needles.
Lexi, Evan, Iskander, Hudson and I emerged from Iskander’s SUV, the only vehicle in our cobbled-together family large enough to accommodate all of us. I had purposely not knocked on Priya’s door—instead I just left her a note that we were out on a case. The one lamp at the entrance to the parking lot flickered on, its light barely noticeable in the fading rays of the sun. In the silence after we closed the doors, I heard rustling in the bushes at the edge of the parking lot, and the distant buzz of tires on asphalt—maybe from the 401, though that was a few kilometers away. Everything else was quiet. There were no voices drifting on the air, no close sounds of vehicles, nothing.
It was a little creepy, knowing there were probably shifters in the woods.
“What’s the plan?” Lexi asked. She wore a fleece sweater that clung to her ample curves and a toque over her tight curls. As the darkness deepened, she’d probably be the warmest of us. And be sure to tell us she was the smartest too.
“You and Iskander stay here,” Hudson said. Lexi opened her mouth to protest, but he stopped her. “You’re our backup, okay? In case shit goes sideways.”
“Yeah, okay,” she grumbled.
“Call us if anything weird happens,” Iskander said to Hudson. He wore a wool scarf around his scarred neck to battle the chill in the air, but his usual black pompadour hairstyle was uncovered.
“You got it,” Hudson assured him. He turned to Evan and me. “You guys ready?”
“Oh, sure,” I said. “Tromping through the woods at night is my favorite thing ever.”
“Says the guy who can go half-ghost and walk through everything.” Evan poked at me.
I did exactly that, fading slightly from view, and stuck my tongue out at him. “Don’t hate me because I have the best power ever.”
“Ass.” Evan chuckled and started off after Hudson down the trail.
We had no idea where we’d find the shifters. Probably not on the trail—or anywhere close to it—but Hudson had voted against going off-trail to start. I understood that. He and Evan had speed and predatory grace on their side, but they were still human-shaped—and humans who weren’t used to traipsing through the wilderness. The last thing we needed was to get lost ourselves while looking for the shifters. So the plan was to stay on the trail until one of them caught the scent, and then we’d venture off it.
In theory, it was a good plan. In practice...we were three guys who did not go hiking on anywhere close to a regular basis, and walking through the woods in the dark was nothing like walking down a sidewalk with streetlamps placed every half block.
The third time Evan tripped, I rematerialized fully to haul him back to his feet. “What happened to being a predator?” I goaded.
“I’m an urban predator,” he snapped.
“Uh-huh.” A breeze drifted by and I froze as I caught a haunting cry. “Wolf?”
Hudson shook his head. “Coyote. I think.”
“Shifter or...?”
“I have no fucking idea.” Growly Hudson was out in full force, and I probably shouldn’t find his frustration as appealing as I did. Except he was usually so competent and capable that seeing a more vulnerable side of him was attractive as hell. “Let’s keep going.”
I faded partially back into the otherplane. “I should have asked Don what type of shifter Logan is.”
“I don’t think it would have mattered.” Evan’s eyes glowed yellow in the darkness, as did Hudson’s. “It’s not like we know how to lure in whatever sort of animal he might be, right?”
“True.”
“So when are you guys going to introduce Priya to us?”
Hudson paused. “You want to meet her?”
“Hell yes, we want to meet her,” Evan said with a scoff. “What kind of friends do you think we are?”
“Huh.”
“I never believed you when you said you were bad at this family thing,” Evan continued, “but this...this could convince me.”
Hudson let out a growl that we both knew meant nothing.
“Seriously, though. We’d like to meet her.”
“It’s...weird,” Hudson admitted quietly. “Like streams crossing that shouldn’t cross.”
“Because of the gay thing?” I kept my voice low and gentle, knowing that—even as the otherplane affected it, making it even lower than I intended—Hudson and Evan would still hear me. “She doesn’t care about that. Honestly, she’s more worried about you cradle-robbing.”
Evan snorted.
“No, it’s not that.” Hudson hesitated. “Maybe sort of that. I don’t know. Shit, I went from thirty-plus years of solitude to an abundance of family. I’m trying to get my brain wrapped around it. I want her here, and I want you guys here, but there’s a part of me...” He looked up at the two of us—me, his lover, and Evan, his little brother. “There’s a part of me that worries if I mix the two, they’ll both blow up and dissolve.”
I bit back my smile at Hudson’s mixed metaphor. His awkward communication skills were one of the things I found most endearing about him.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said. “Mates, remember?”
It had been something that had happened by accident, the mates thing. Something that had sneaked up on us. But now I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
“Mates,” Hudson said.
“And you’re my sire, and you’re usually not an asshole, so I’m sticking around too.” Evan grinned.
He’d changed a lot over the past year. I remembered the quiet young man he’d been, depressed and isolated, and I marveled at how he’d grown. Not physically—though he’d filled out these past few months as his appetite increased, thanks to the effective regimen of antidepressants and crystal therapy his witch-healer-therapist had recommended. But definitely in attitude. Demeanor. I thought I was now seeing the man Evan was supposed to be, under the depression and the shock of being disowned by his family and betrayed by the boyfriend he’d loved enough to move across the country with.
We continued our trek for another fifteen minutes. I had no idea where we were, and I couldn’t take out my phone to check, since cell phone coverage generally didn’t extend into the otherplane. I heard another yip-yip-yip in the distance and nearly walked through Hudson as he suddenly stopped in the middle of the path.
“There’s something to the right,” he said, so low I could barely hear him. “Wes?”
“On it.”
Hudson and Evan might be the predators, but I was the sneaky covert surveillance guy. Half in the otherplane as I was, I’d confuse any animal. They wouldn’t be able to catch my scent, or hear me. They might be able to see me—I wasn’t sure about that. There were tons of stories out there about cats and dogs seeing ghosts when humans couldn’t, but I didn’t know if that extended to my half-in, half-out ass. I guessed we’d find out.
I zipped through the brush, trying to spot the creature Hudson had detected. Problem was, unlike Hudson and Evan, my ghostly self didn’t come with night vision. Finding anything in the dark was a challenge and a half, and I was as likely to step through a hidden creature as I was to spot it in the deep shadows.
Just as I thought that, something burst from the brush at my feet. “It’s running!” I shouted and gave chase. Even racing through trees and plants, I couldn’t keep up with the animal sprinting away from me. Finally, we reached a creek, and I stopped, unsure of which way it had gone. Hudson and Evan joined me seconds later.
“Anything?” I asked.
They both inhaled deeply, took a few steps to the side, and repeated the deep breath. Hudson shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Shit.”
“I think we’re facing back toward the parking lot,” Evan said, digging out his phone to check our location on the Rouge Park app. “Yeah, see—there it is. A few hundred meters in front of us. So it’s probably gone in another direction.”
Hudson considered the both of us. “Want to try again?”
I shook my head and rematerialized fully. “I think this is pointless. They’re in their element out here, and we’re clearly not. I think we need to track down where Logan works and—”
Hudson’s phone rang. He hit the Accept and Speaker buttons. “Go.”
“Something burst out of the trees,” Lexi said breathlessly. “It jumped us and—shit, Iskander got bit. He’s bleeding a lot.”
“What was it?” Evan demanded.
“A wolf?” Lexi didn’t sound too sure. “I stunned it. I need you guys back here ASAP in case it wakes up.”
Evan didn’t hesitate—he took off running in the direction of the parking lot, not caring that it led him off the path.
“We’re coming,” Hudson said, and hung up.
I faded into the otherplane and took off after Evan, hoping I wouldn’t find Iskander bleeding out again. One instance like that was enough for any lifetime. I phased through trees, branches and the thick carpet of leaves that had already fallen to cover the ground in what would have been a slippery nuisance had I been in the living plane. It seemed to take forever before I burst through the simple fence at the edge of the parking lot and rematerialized.
Lexi knelt over Iskander, pressing his ubiquitous scarf to his shoulder. Blood darkened the ground beneath him and his normally rich tan skin was wan and pale. He was awake, though, which made my heart slow down a bit. It was a bad situation, but not as bad as the one I’d found him in over a year before. His throat wasn’t slashed, he wasn’t bleeding out.
I’d take it.
Evan stood in front of them, facing the threat, his fangs down and his eyes glowing.
“I’ve got Isk.” Lexi nodded to a pile of fur a dozen feet away or so. “That’s what bit him.”
Evan moved toward it, but I grabbed his arm. “You stand guard,” I said.
He gave a terse nod of agreement.
I took a cautious step in the creature’s direction, but it didn’t stir. Whatever Lexi had hit it with had done the trick. As I got closer, I could make out legs and a tail, then a snout and ears. It had tawny fur that ranged from pale white-gold to tan, with darker gray striations across its shoulders.
I tilted my head. “I think it’s a coyote.”
“Too big,” Iskander rasped, his voice filled with pain.
I didn’t say anything. It wasn’t like I could argue with him—I was a city boy now, my farming days long (long) behind me, and my memories of the coyotes I’d seen on the plains of Alberta were fuzzy and dim.
“It doesn’t matter what the fuck it is,” Lexi snarled. “We need to get Isk to the hospital. Where’s Hud?”
“Here,” Hudson said, his voice steady despite running for god knew how far through the brush. “What did you do, Isk?”
“Stepped in front of Lexi,” Iskander admitted with a small smile.
“Because he’s a fucking idiot.” Lexi pressed the scarf against the wound, ignoring Iskander’s hiss of pain. “Let’s get him loaded into the SUV and—”
The pile of fur twitched. Slowly, the animal whimpered and regained its feet, none too steadily. Hud moved to my side, and the wolf—or coyote, whatever—snarled, crouching, ready, its ears pressed back against its head. Hudson adopted a fighting stance too.
“Yeah, no,” I muttered.
My god-magic rushed through me. The little piece from each believer was insignificant individually, but together they became something more. Something powerful. It lit up my skin from within, and I shaped it, directed it at the animal. It was a shifter—it had to be, otherwise it would have run into the woods when faced with Hudson’s threatening stance.
“Shift,” I ordered, my voice deep and ringing with power.
The coyote-wolf fell back as though I’d hit it. It crumpled to the ground, growling and whining as its form writhed in the dirt and gravel, and in moments—
“Holy shit,” Hudson breathed.
I’d been expecting to see Logan. Or another man. Instead, a girl lay on the dirt, her red hair tangled and matted. And when I said girl, I meant it. She couldn’t be older than fourteen.
Something hit me in the head. Startled, I grabbed it, only to find it was Lexi’s sweater. I stared at it stupidly.
“For her,” Lexi said. “She’ll be swimming in it, but it’s better than being naked.”
I shook off my shock and stepped forward, slowly, holding out the piece of clothing. “You’re okay,” I said in a soft voice. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
She watched me warily, her eyes darting from my hands to my face. When I got close enough, her fingers darted out to grab the sweater and she tugged it over her head a second later.
“Where am I?” she demanded. “Who are you?”
“You’re in Rouge Park,” I said. “I’m Wes. What’s your name?”
“I—” Her hazel eyes clouded for a moment, then cleared. “I’m Sam.”
“What’s your last name, Sam?”
Her mouth opened, then closed. “I’m not sure.”
Okay. I cast a look over my shoulder at Lexi, but she was checking the status of Iskander’s wound, so I turned my attention back to Sam. “Do you live nearby, Sam?”
“No?” It came out like a question. “I don’t even know where I am.”
“Scarborough,” Hudson supplied, his voice gentle. He was back to looking fully human again, and he crouched behind me. His height and width alone, even without all the vampness, could be intimidating.
“I—I—” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Uh, guys?”
I turned to find Iskander sitting up and Lexi sitting back on her heels. The bloodied scarf lay on the ground, forgotten.
That was...weird. Right? Shouldn’t Lexi be keeping pressure on the wound?
“Lex?” My voice was uncertain.
“It’s healed.” Her voice was as shaky as mine as she dragged the
back of a bloody hand over her forehead.
“What do you mean healed?” Evan demanded, craning his head over Iskander’s form so he could have a look.
Iskander pulled the shirt away from his shoulder. Lexi had wiped away as much blood as possible so she could have a look, and it was easy to see that there were no open punctures in the skin.
“What—” Iskander swallowed. “What does that mean?”
“Welcome to the clan,” Sam said quietly behind us.
Chapter Six
On the plus side, it meant we didn’t have to go to the hospital.
On the downside, one of my best friends had been changed into...something.
We sat in the living room, all of us arranged here and there on various pieces of furniture while Evan’s witch-healer-therapist, Dr. Kozlow, examined Sam in one of our guest rooms upstairs. She pronounced her undernourished, underweight and exhausted, but surprisingly healthy for all of that. The memory thing hadn’t improved yet, and Dr. Kozlow surmised that it might be because Sam had spent a lengthy time in her animal form.
“How long are we talking?” Lexi asked.
“Weeks. Maybe months.” The doctor’s brow was creased with worry lines. “It’s amazing she’s able to communicate at all if that’s the case. What do you plan on doing with her?”
Hudson shifted on his perch on the arm of the chair where I was sitting. “We could call Children’s Aid.”
“Uh, no. In fact, hell no.” Lexi lifted a hand to cut off a rebuttal. “And what happens the first time she shifts in front of her social worker or foster parent?”
Hudson grimaced and inclined his head, acknowledging her point.
“Do we have to report her?” I asked. When everyone turned their eyes to me, I shrugged. “I mean, I want to do what’s best for her, but I’m okay with her staying with us while we track down her family.”
Dr. Kozlow shared a commiserative look with Lexi. “You and I both tread a fine line with regards to human medicine and laws, and what’s best for the paranormal community. What do you think?”
“I think I’m taking some time off work and moving in temporarily,” Lexi said. “It’s fucking stupid, but I don’t want there to be any rumors from the neighbors, you know?”