Crap.
A small voice in the back of my head reminded me to stay very still.
The rest of me didn’t listen.
I was two sprints into a run when a pair of strong hands jerked me to a stop. Bobby dragged me back. Held me still.
Gil was nowhere in sight, but the dogs were almost on us.
Closing fast.
My mouth went dry. My tongue plastered itself to the roof of my mouth. I couldn’t yell.
“They’re just guard dogs,” Bobby whispered, releasing my arms. He stepped beside me and lifted his fists.
There was no time left to run. The dogs were on us.
I kicked wildly. Missed. The dog’s teeth snapped shut on my skirt. He shredded the hem. My next kick caught him in the jaw. Dogs. Why does it always have to be dogs?
Bobby knocked the dog sideways. It yelped, but immediately climbed to its feet again, lip curled. Both dogs growled, and Bobby answered. His beast was near the surface, energy pouring off his skin and prickling along mine.
The dogs paused, just out of reach of my swinging foot. They circled. Flanked us. In unison they crouched, prepared to lunge.
Bobby’s energy rolled over my body. Like a rising scream, a hot, animal energy answered under my skin. It burst from my core, spread outward.
The Rottweilers fell flat, their nubby tails tucked as they whined. The sharp scent of submissive urination touched the air. Bobby growled again. The two dogs turned and ran, both their heads and butts dragging the ground.
I stared after them. “Crap, Bobby. That was an alpha pulse. How the hell did you do that?”
Bobby turned toward me, not saying anything. I looked at him and found him studying me, a look of awe on his face. He shook his head. “Not me. We did it. You’re my Dyre.”
I frowned at him as the tingly feel of magic laced over my skin. Gil appeared in the empty space beside me, her scroll already in hand.
“Interesting,” she said, scribbling down a note, “can you explain exactly what you did?”
I scowled at her. “You could’ve helped.”
“I’ve read several books about the strength of vampires. You surely didn’t need my help with a pair of dogs. Now answer this…”
I ignored Gil’s incessant questions about how we’d intimidated the dogs and returned to navigating the path of dead cars. I also made a point not to acknowledge the hopeful grin that lit Bobby’s eyes every time he looked at me.
I couldn’t acknowledge it. I was too busy trying to ignore my own spark of hope.
I stumbled over my leaden feet and pretended I’d tripped over a rearview mirror sticking out of the snow. I was weaker than before. More so than could be explained by the approaching dawn. But my cat… I pushed my attention deep inside and touched the frozen core where my cat had once resided. Did it feel slightly warmer now, slightly less knotted?
The coil was quiet. Cold. Dead.
But…?
I stared at my half shifted hands. Did we really create that dominant energy surge? In Firth, Torins and Dyres could borrow energy from their clan members. My father wouldn’t have needed to siphon energy from another shifter to create one small alpha pulse—he could dominate shifter or beast by his will alone. But his cat’s not a dead coil like mine.
“We did it. You’re my Dyre.” Damn Bobby. Why did he have to say that? It gave me hope, but that hope was deceptive.
Snow crunched ahead of me. I stopped mid-step. The cityshifter’s scent was stronger now. It saturated the air around us. He’s close.
Bobby stilled behind me, obviously equally aware of the newcomer. But Gil was oblivious. I pressed a finger over my lips, trying to quiet her. She didn’t notice. She hadn’t summoned her light and she was concentrating hard on her footing instead of me. She tripped over something in the shadows and squealed as she fell, her butt landing in the snow with a thump.
Well, there goes any element of surprise—which we’d probably already lost, but still.
Bobby turned to help Gil, and I crept into the shadow of the nearby junk-pile. The mountain of metal beside me released a slight creaking sound. A soft curse drifted to me from the other side. Then snow crunched under heavy boots.
I pressed deeper in the shadows as the shifter rounded the corner. He marched past my hiding spot, a metal pipe clutched behind his back. Gil barely had her feet under her, and Bobby moved to barricade her body with his as the cityshifter stopped a few yards in front of them.
“Get outta here,” the city-shifter yelled, the pipe still hidden behind his back.
Bobby frowned. His gaze drifted past the city-shifter to the spot I’d been standing earlier, and then across the shadows.
The astringent scent of fear reached me. Not from my companions. From the city-shifter. He followed Bobby’s gaze, stepping sideways so he could keep Bobby in his peripheral vision as his eyes darted nervously in my direction.
I held my breath, going statue still the way only a vampire could be still. Come on, Bobby, don’t give away my position.
As if he heard the thought—which I knew he couldn’t have—Bobby’s gaze snapped back to the city-shifter, but the damage was done. The city-shifter had the idea someone else might be in the wreck-yard. Shifters have superb night vision, but unlike vampires, they can’t see into dark shadows like the one where I was crouched. As he searched the darkness, I caught my first clear view of the city-shifter’s face.
Recognition slammed into me.
I saw him from Tyler’s memory. The city-shifter was smiling. Younger. Cleaner. He passed a cigarette, joking about something. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to shove Tyler back into the depths of my mind as ghost images pressed the sides of my vision.
“Get lost tag-along. This isn’t the place for little boys.”
“Shove it, Tyler. Danny’s no older than me.”
“Yeah, but you don’t have the stomach for it.” He didn’t. I knew he didn’t. He never would. And I’d prove it to him, too.
“Fine. Come along. We’ll have some fun. See the chick over there. The one with the stupid streaks—”
The image of myself in the memory snapped me back to the present. I’d lived parts of that memory before, but I’d never noticed the seconds before Tyler pointed to me. Before he made me a target.
I’d been distracted for several crucial seconds while lost in Tyler’s memories. The city-shifter had pulled his pipe. He growled, slapping it against his palm. The pipe splintered in a shower of red rust flakes, and I crept soundlessly from my hiding spot.
“We, uh…” Bobby stammered, but the shifter brandished the broken pipe, cutting him off.
“I don’t care what you were doing. Get out. Get out now!”
He lunged forward, and Bobby jumped to the side, dragging Gil with him. A crazed laugh trickled from the city-shifter’s throat. “Too late. Too late.”
He ran at them, swinging the pipe in a wide arc. Gil’s hands flew into motion, and a purple haze filled the air in front of her and Bobby. Her barrier. The semi-translucent wall solidified, separating them from the city-shifter. He slammed into it, bounced back, and a smile spread across Gil’s face.
A premature smile. I could feel the tingle of magic in the air growing, building.
Then the barrier exploded.
Three bodies flew in opposite directions, joined by a shower of displaced snow and spare car parts. I pushed out of my shadow, ignoring the clumps of snow and bits of rusted metal raining down around me. Bobby and the city-shifter climbed to their feet, staring at each other. Gil moved slower.
My skirt rustled as I stepped forward, and Bobby’s gaze snapped to me. I shook my head, willing him to look away.
Too late.
The city-shifter glanced over his shoulder. Not like he meant to, but like a reflex. His gaze landed on me. The reek of fear poured off him. He whirled around. He’d managed to hold onto the pipe, and he swung at me.
Great.
I hid my deformed hands in my skirt.
“Drop the pipe,” I said in as even a voice as I could. He didn’t. A name floated up from the pit I kept Tyler’s memories in, so I used it. “Steven, drop the pipe.”
The shifter jumped at his name, and the arc of his swinging pipe slowed, but he still clutched the weapon. He chewed at his bottom lip, a lip chapped and scabbed like chewing at it was a habit. His eyes grew wide as he stared at me, the whites overpowering the expanded pupils.
“Oh god, you’re her,” he said, backing up until his back pressed against the side of a junked SUV.
The pipe slid from his fingers. He fell down after it, his hands groping blindly, his gaze stuck on me. “You’re her.”
Bobby kicked the pipe further from him, but Steven didn’t notice. He just kept staring at me. I stepped closer and his mouth dropped, his tongue darting out to wet his cracked lips. Something else—something too desperate to be hope—mixed with the fear in his gaze.
“Please, take it back.” His words were barely audible as he fell forward onto the ground. He groveled at my feet in the churned snow. “I swear, I’ll never do it again. Please take the curse back.”
Bobby glanced from the prone shifter to me. I’d asked Nathanial the same thing once—to take back the curse. I’d been talking about vampirism, but it was the same request.
Make me what I was.
But I couldn’t. Just like Nathanial couldn’t. Steven was a shifter now. But is he a sane one?
I stared at the cowering man. Hair that would have been light brown if it were clean hung in heavy, tangled clumps halfway to his shoulders. A light covering of coarse whiskers covered his chin—not thick enough to be called a beard. He hadn’t had either in Tyler’s memory. I frowned. He wouldn’t be filthy if he’d been shifting.
I tilted my head back, sniffed the air. There was no doubt.
He’d been tagged. But he’s not shifting? How many days would a shifter have to go between changes to get so dirty?
“Stand up, Tag-along,” I said. Then I winced, realizing I’d used Tyler’s sarcastic name for him without meaning to.