Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The next morning dawns bright and brilliant, sunlight streaming through the street facing window, warming my face and pulling me gently out of the grip of sleep. For a moment I bury my face in Shade’s chest -- somehow I got turned around in the night and ended up tangled up between the two shifters. Not that I’m complaining, mind you -- but then I remember today’s agenda and force myself to sit up with a groan.

Silas slings an arm over his eyes while S hade makes a belligerent sound, his grey eyes cracking open ever so slightly. “Big plans, Boots?” he mumbles at me.

“Just going on a run with Edith and Hunter,” I reply, keeping my voice low so as not to disturb the sleeping dragon shifter. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t worry about anything,” Shade informs me with a coy smile. There’s a pause, and then he amends. “Well, almost anything.” His eyes meet mine, and I can tell he’s concerned, although he does a damn good job of hiding it.

“Come on, Shade-” I begin, startled when he pulls me down for a kiss tender enough to make my stomach turn to liquid.

“Almost anything,” the wolf shifter repeats softly, resting his forehead against mine before letting me go and falling back onto the bed. “God, I feel like I could sleep all day. Make me some tea?”

“Nice try,” I tell him teasingly, maneuvering around him and out of the bed.

“Ruthless,” the wolf shifter complains, but he doesn’t sound all that broken up about it. I chuckle, shaking my head, and begin to dress; someone has laid out our freshly-dried clothes on the shelf in the hallway, a welcome alternative to what I was wearing before. Within minutes, I’m ready to go, my hair swept into a ponytail and my eyes blinking against the bright morning sunlight.

The sound of voices from the kitchen alerts me to the fact that I’m not the first one up. I creep out of my room, pausing at the end of the hallway and peering in at the table where Edith and Hunter are already seated. They’re talking in low tones, and once again she’s conveniently positioned herself a little too close to him for my comfort.

I bite my lip, almost afraid to make my presence known; that moment with Hunter last night is still fresh in my mind, and I’m worried that the instant he looks at me with those ocean blue eyes, uncomfortable questions will start spilling out of me. Swallowing hard, I try my best to look nonchalant as I mosey into the kitchen, making a beeline for the kettle to pour myself some tea before rummaging briefly in one of the cabinets.

“There you are,” says Edith, looking up at me. “We were starting to wonder if we should go wake you up. Although after yesterday…” She stifles a smile, making my ears turn red, and the intense look of discomfort on Hunter’s face tells me the cat is out of the bag. She must have told him about what she walked in on after my shower.

“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her breezily. “We’re all family here, right?” I give her a thin smile to match the loaded statement, but she doesn’t respond, instead turning back to Hunter.

“Anything else we need before we go?” he asks.

Edith shakes her head. “We’re all we need, although I appreciate your conscientiousness.” She gets to her feet and holds her hand out to him -- as if the guy can’t stand up on his own, I think bitterly, slinging a backpack over her shoulder. “Charms,” she says by way of explanation. “My own work. You never know when they might come in handy.”

“Fair enough,” I admit grudgingly as I wolf down a biscuit and chug my tea, wincing at the burn in my throat. “Well, there’s no use waiting around any longer. Shall we?”

“Whatever you say, Millie.” Again with that disingenuous smile. It makes my skin crawl. Is this really the person who made me a witch?

Hunter doesn’t say anything, following Edith to the door without so much as a glance at me. My stomach drops -- is he mad at me? I wonder with a feeling of sudden dread. It’s ridiculous, I know; it’s not like we’ve fought about anything, and just last night he was praising my work teaching him! So what gives?

The tension is palpable as we file out of the apartment, Edith disabling her hexes with an enviable ease before pulling the door open and leading us out and down the hallway. Hunter is making a point to avoid my gaze, his expression serious and almost haunted, and it takes everything I have not to ask him what the hell has gotten into him.

At least the weather is on our side. Aside from a cool breeze, the day is gorgeous, and I feel revitalised as we step out onto the street and begin to make our way down the block. Edith clearly knows where she’s going, which is good, because this neighbourhood might as well be a maze to me. I feel exposed, like at any moment now an Academy agent will pop out of an alleyway and drag me into the shadows, but at least we have numbers on our side. For whatever else I may think of her, Edith is a strong witch. If anyone tries anything, at least we’ll be able to give them a hell of a fight.

Unable to hold my tongue any longer, I fall into step beside Hunter. “So how’s the living situation working out?” I ask.

He shrugs, his eyes fixed on the pavement. “No complaints,” he says, his voice flat.

Edith shoots him a coquettish look over her shoulder. “None from me either,” she adds with a wink. “Here’s to not-so-strange bedfellows, huh?”

“Bedfellows?” I ask, blanching a little.

The witch shifter laughs. “Relax, Millie. It’s just an expression.”

Is it, though?

I swallow hard but don’t reply.

We continue on in silence, eventually leaving the shops behind in favour of a block of flats that looks like it was constructed hundreds of years ago. “Well, here we are,” she announces, spreading her arms out. “Stop one, right?”

“Right,” I echo curtly.

We make our way around a corner and down a side street before coming to a stop in front of a narrow complex. “Shall I do the honours?” Edith asks, nodding at the doorbell. Before I even have a chance to reply, she’s ringing it, squaring her shoulders and smoothing her shirt like she’s here for a job interview and not a rebel recruitment. “Jennifer?” she says into the speaker. “It’s me, Edith Conaway!”

There’s a long pause before the person on the other end wordlessly buzzes us in. Looking rather self-satisfied, Edith pulls open the door and leads us to a glass lift, which slowly rises until it slows to a stop at the top floor. We arrive outside an expensive-looking penthouse apartment; this must have been what she was talking about when she said these guys were influential in the shifter community. We’ll just have to hope they’ll use that influence to our benefit.

Edith knocks on the door like she’s done this a million times before, and I’m a little shocked by her nonchalance -- how many times has she visited these people? But before I can think about it too hard, the door opens to reveal a stunningly beautiful red-haired woman who appears to be in her mid-thirties. The siren shifter, I would assume. Her face lights up when she sees Edith. “There you are,” she exclaims, holding her arms out to embrace the witch shifter. “I was half expecting not to see you, Edith! You’ve been off the grid for some time.”

“It comes with the territory,” Edith replies with a grin. “Dodging the humans is kind of a full-time job.”

“I know it well,” the woman, Jennifer, says, nodding. She holds the door open for us and we filter into a spacious apartment. “And just who are your friends?” she asks, glancing from me to Hunter.

“This is Hunter,” Edith says, gesturing to the vampire shifter. “He’s a shifter. And this,” she continues, “is Millie. She’s the hybrid I told you about.”

Jennifer’s eyebrows shoot up. “Certainly not something you see every day. Well, come in. Make yourselves comfortable.” She indicates a sofa in the living room, where I stiffly take a seat, with Hunter following close behind. “Caleb?” she calls into one of the other rooms. “We have guests! Edith and her hybrid!” I bristle a little at the way she calls me Edith’shybrid, like I’m some kind of prized pig at a county fair, but I stay silent, not wanting to jeopardise a potential partnership.

A big blond man breezes into the room moments later, beaming at the three of us as he extends a hand to shake each of ours. He drops into an easy chair near one of the windows, Jennifer following suit. Their eyes sweep over us, lingering for an uncomfortably long time on me before meeting Edith’s green ones. If I didn’t know any better, I might wonder if they know more than they’re letting on, but considering the idea to contact them didn’t come up until yesterday, somehow I doubt it. They’re probably just amused by the novelty of having a crossbreed in their midst. “So,” asks Caleb, leaning back and crossing his legs, “what brings you here?”

“There’s no easy way to say this,” I tell them, taking charge. “We’re on the run from the U.K. Shifter Academy. We’ve been on the run, ever since Boston.”

“Mm.” Jennifer nods slowly. “Yes, that was… unfortunate.”

“That’s a bit of an understatement,” remarks Hunter. “Dozens of people died. Students.”

“Yes,” Jennifer hastens to say. “Of course.”

There’s an awkward pause as they size us up. I wish I could put my finger on what is making me so uncomfortable. “At any rate,” I say, “none of us is going to be safe from the humans until we can take the fight to them. And we’re going to need help to do that.”

“I see,” Caleb says thoughtfully. “And you thought to come ask us to help.”

“I mean, yeah,” I reply sheepishly. “If that’s something you’re open to. Edith suggested coming to you first. She… mentioned that you have a lot of influence around here.”

“Did she, now?” asks Caleb, cocking his head to one side. “Yes, I would expect that from you, Edith. You always were… precocious.”

“Look,” I say, fidgeting a little, “we don’t want to make you do anything you’re uncomfortable with. I know this is a lot to ask of complete strangers. But don’t you think we’ll all be safer without the humans trying to control us?”

“I suppose that’s a matter of perspective,” Jennifer muses. “The humans have given us stability. We’ve made sacrifices for that stability, yes, but the alternative is so… ugly. Untrained shifters running about, causing untold chaos… Don’t you think it’s worth counting our angels and moving on?”

“That’s no way to live,” I reply firmly.

“To each their own,” Caleb says, shrugging. “I’m sorry to disappoint you folks, but we’re perfectly content with our lot in life. I would rather see a world that isn’t overrun by magic users.”

“I… see,” I say slowly, starting to get to my feet. “Well then, I guess we shouldn’t take up any more of your time. Edith, should we…?”

Edith, who has been strangely silent for the whole exchange, follows my lead, but when we make for the door, Jennifer is suddenly out of her seat, extending an arm to bar us from leaving. “What’s the rush?” she croons, her eyes locking with mine. “Don’t you want to stay a while?”

“Thank you,” I say, attempting to sidestep her, “but we really should-”

“I’m sorry,” Jennifer laughs, giving me a toothy smile. “You misunderstand me. That wasn’t a request.”

“What do you…” I begin, but I stop mid-sentence, my eyes going wide as my anxiety turns to full-blown fear.

Something is very wrong here.

That’s the only coherent thought I have before the violence starts.