Chapter 13

T hat may have been the best night of my life.

No, there's no ‘may have' about it – that was the best night of my life, hands down.

Rhys, in griffin form, slowly beat his wings as they made their lazy way back toward Burr Island. He was acutely aware of Maisie's comforting warmth on his back, and how right it felt. Like she had always belonged there, and had been missing up until now.

Of course, his griffin said with an excessive level of smugness, even by its standards. She is our mate. She is exactly where she should be.

It sounded so pompous that Rhys wanted to argue with it, but for once he had to admit that it was one hundred percent correct. He and Maisie just fit together.

He'd have to apologize to Hec and the others later for not wanting to hear it whenever they'd banged on about how amazing finding your mate was. Well, maybe he wouldn't apologize , but he'd be a bit more polite about it in the future.

Our mate is clearly the best mate of all, his griffin declared. They should all have to sit down and listen while you deliver a treatise on all of her finest attributes.

Yeah, nah, I'm not doing that, Rhys replied in irritation.

The griffin gave him a haughty look. We must let the world know of her excellence!

Shut your pie hole. I'm trying to have a moment – I don't need you barging in .

Suit yourself, the griffin said in an ominous tone, before turning its back and curling up. Normally Rhys would've been thrilled to see the griffin shut up and leave him alone, but this time he was a little worried. He didn't think the griffin would plunge them into the ocean out of spite, but it might just make him start talking to random people about how great Maisie was once they were back on land.

In any case, he was trying to have a moment, and so he brought himself back to the real world, with the wind dancing in his feathers, his mate on his back, and the sunlight sparkling on the ocean below. The picnic hamper in his talons dampened the effect a little, but he didn't even care.

Rhys was still riding high – figuratively, as well as literally – from the night before. He wouldn't say that it was the best night's sleep he'd ever had, given the number of times they'd woken up, whether it was to eat, take a dunk in the ocean, admire the phosphorescence that adorned the waves, or lie back down together again for another round… but it was the best-rested he'd ever felt. He thought that he could do it all again now, and still feel on top of the world.

Was this what being a lovesick idiot felt like? Well, sign him up, he supposed.

A movement in the corner of his vision caught the attention of his griffin's eagle eye, and he changed course slightly, bringing them in closer.

He heard Maisie's delighted gasp when she saw what he'd already seen, and her fingers gripped his feathers tighter.

"Oh, wow," she breathed… and, as much as Rhys liked to think that he was a worldly guy who had been there and done that, he had to agree that the sight was pretty amazing.

Far below them, an enormous humpback whale powered up through the surface of the ocean, bursting up into the sunlight and seeming to hang in the air for several seconds before plunging back down again, sending up a giant wall of water in its wake.

The sheer size of the creature was extraordinary, and he watched, entranced, as the whale came back up to swim at the surface – and this time he noticed the baby humpback by its side. It looked tiny in comparison to its mum, but he knew that it could probably eat him for breakfast. He was suddenly very glad that humpbacks didn't have a taste for human – or, presumably, griffin – flesh. These guys were massive!

He continued to circle for a while even after the whales departed, simply enjoying the sight of the ocean below and the sky above with Maisie, before, regretfully, he turned back toward Burr Island once more. As much as he was enjoying himself, and as much as it seemed like there was no one else for miles around, he knew that any time spent in griffin form was a risk. While they had left just as the sun was starting to appear over the horizon, the sky was rapidly lightening.

Not too much later they landed at the Burr Island lookout point – which was still thankfully deserted at this early hour – and Maisie slipped off his back before Rhys shifted back into his human form. He barely had a moment to get his bearings before he was practically knocked off his feet, Maisie throwing herself at him for a kiss.

"Thank you," she said after she finally pulled back, looking up at him with shining eyes. "That was incredible."

Maisie kissed him again, and the two of them headed back down toward the resort, Maisie pressed against his side. She seemed to fit there perfectly, her head resting against his shoulder as they wandered along the path.

It almost seemed a shame to finally reach the resort again, with its rich bozos and its manicured gardens and its peacocks and its damn butlers . All he really wanted was to be somewhere quiet with Maisie.

Speaking of the butler, he wondered what Bee had thought about them disappearing for a day and a night. Had they missed any activities or restaurant bookings?

… Whatever. He didn't care. He wouldn't have missed the past day for the world.

"I guess we're here," Maisie said as she pulled out her keypass. She sounded as reluctant as Rhys felt.

Well, they didn't have to stay here. They could do whatever they wanted.

They rounded the corner to their room, and…

"Wait."

He held up his hand, signaling to Maisie that she should stay back.

Because they had definitely locked the door when they left… and now, it was sitting slightly ajar.

Adrenaline pumped through his veins. His griffin was awake in a flash, and while it didn't seem to be sensing any actual immediate life-threatening danger, it was on high alert, scanning the area for any sign of enemies.

Rhys cursed the fact that he didn't have any weapons, unless he counted an empty champagne bottle. The griffin wasn't exactly built for combat within enclosed spaces, and shifting would have to be an absolute last resort.

Still, he didn't want to just leave the room without finding out what had happened. If nothing else, if there was someone dangerous lurking in there and some innocent resort staff member came along to clean the room and ended up getting harmed, he would never forgive himself.

He took a slow breath in and out, keeping his heart rate steady, and peered in through the gap in the door.

The room had been trashed, that much was obvious. But he couldn't see anyone, and, more importantly, his griffin still wasn't picking up on any danger.

I believe that it is safe for us to enter.

He gently pushed open the door and entered the apartment on silent feet, making his way into the main living area.

The room looked like a bomb had gone off in it… or like some cockatoos had come in through the open verandah door and trashed the joint in search of Pringles, which was far from impossible.

His griffin seemed satisfied, however, that the only thing in danger was Michael's credit card once the resort got around to charging them for the damage that had been done to the room.

"It's safe to come in," he called out to Maisie. "But lock the door behind you."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Maisie replied as she entered. She blinked. "Wow. This seems a bit extreme."

"Yeah," Rhys said grimly. Of course, he couldn't be sure – but it seemed like one hell of a coincidence that some guys would come after him only a couple of days ago, and now he'd returned to his luxury hotel room to find it trashed. And he didn't really believe in coincidences anyway.

But how did they know I was here? he wondered. No one had known where he was going except Michael and Shaz. This had been a totally unplanned, last-minute move. Who could have known?

I have to make sure Maisie's not in any danger.

"I'm just going to check the other room," Rhys said.

"Sure," said Maisie, looking around a bit dazedly. "Should I not touch anything, or…?"

Rhys shook his head. "Nah, these guys wouldn't leave prints, or anything else. They're professionals. They've probably never even had a run-in with human police."

Maisie nodded, and started awkwardly adjusting a painting that had been knocked skew-whiff.

Rhys went into the bedroom. It was in just as much of a mess as the rest of the place, though he couldn't tell whether the intruders had been looking for something, or just trying to send him a message.

He sat down on the bed for a moment, and tried to get his head together. Who was behind this? Hargreaves? The Agency, for some reason? Someone else?

Should he contact the Agency? Who could he even trust? Normally he would've done so without a second thought, but now he wasn't so sure. He knew that he trusted his immediate team with his life, but he didn't want to drag them into this unless it was absolutely necessary, either.

The sudden buzz of his phone jerked him out of his reverie, and he pulled it out of his pocket to see who had texted him.

Michael.

It was a bit early in the day for him, but he supposed that maybe he just hadn't gone to bed yet. Or maybe Rhys had just been out of range, and the message was just getting through now. The resort was pretty much the only place on the island that had any kind of signal, and the island they'd spent last night on was definitely the kind of place where nothing got through.

Rhys tapped on the message, eager to know whether Michael had found anything out.

wherevr u r, get the hell out, the message read, and Rhys's breath caught in his throat. ur movemnts are being reportd. u have been set up. someone is

The message cut off mid-sentence – Michael must have had to press send before he could get everything down.

Shit. Shit. This is very, very bad.

"Uh, Rhys? Could you get in here for a moment?" Maisie's voice rang out from the living area.

Rhys practically raced back to the other room, his heart in his throat. But when he arrived, Maisie didn't seem to be in any trouble – she was standing in front of the TV, which she'd evidently turned on.

"I, uh, I don't know, I just wanted to see if it still worked, since everything else is ruined," she said, a little sheepishly. "But look at what's happening."

Rhys frowned as he looked at the brEAKING NEWS! report that was currently taking place on the TV screen. At first, he couldn't tell what Maisie was talking about, given it was just a smartly styled blonde talking – but then the picture switched to an aerial view of some Sydney streets, and –

His breath caught in his throat. "Is that –"

"Yeah," Maisie said grimly. "I can't really think of who else it would be. Unless you have any other quokka friends who happen to have cassowary girlfriends."

Shaking his head slightly, he stared at the – slightly surreal, even to him – image of a cassowary rampaging through the suburban streets with a quokka riding on its back, clinging for dear life to the cassowary's shining black feathers with its little front paws.

"And there's a sight you don't see every day of the week," the smart blonde newsreader's voice cut in over the top of the video of Michael riding Shaz through the streets. "A quokka on a cassowary – not the most natural of pairings, but these two seem to have formed an unlikely bond. It's not yet known if the pair are escapees from a zoo, or perhaps from an illegal private collection. However, ever since this mad dash through the streets of Bondi Junction, authorities have been searching for the pair without luck. Let's hope wherever they are –"

"This is bad," Rhys said, as the picture zoomed in on Michael's fuzzy little body atop the murder machine that was Shaz. "There's no way either of them would have gone out in public in their shifter forms unless they had to."

Maisie turned to him, eyes wide. "Um. No. I guess they don't really blend in. Especially when Michael is, uh, riding her," she said. "But they did say they've been looking for them and haven't found them, so I guess they're safe? For now, anyway."

"It's not really animal control they have to be worried about," Rhys said, tension coiling through him. "Michael sent me a text message telling me my movements were being tracked, but it cut off mid-sentence before he explained anything. And now, it seems like they've had to make a break for it even if that meant exposing their shifter forms. I think something went really wrong."

Maisie let out a soft gasp. "You mean their lives are in danger?"

"Let's hope they're safe for now, like you said. If I know Michael, he'll have more than a few boltholes to run to," Rhys said. "Right now, we should worry about ourselves. Clearly, coming here wasn't enough."

But why is anyone even coming after me? Rhys wondered, as, turning, he went out of the open door and onto the deck leading to the pool. He didn't like the idea of having such an open space so close. First those guys in the café, and now this. Clearly, someone's got it in for me.

He grimaced as he surveyed the pool area. It was pretty early in the morning still, so almost no one was out and about yet.

Well, there really wasn't any shortage of people who could be holding a grudge, he thought grimly. He'd put a lot of shifter criminals away over the years.

But why go to all the trouble of pretending to recruit me first, if they just wanted to kill me? And what did Michael mean in his text when he said my movements –

" OOF! "

Rhys let out a grunt of surprise and pain, as, suddenly, the wind was completely knocked out of him by something falling on him from above.

Whatever it was, it was smooth, scaled – and writhing.

As he struggled to keep his footing on the deck, Rhys realized he knew exactly what had hit him – and what was currently twisting its way around his limbs, his torso, his legs.

Snake!

He hated snakes.

And this wasn't just any snake, he quickly realized.

Besides being enormous , it was also clearly a shifter. Not only did Rhys seriously doubt most enormous scrub pythons secreted themselves on overhead balconies of luxury resorts waiting for their prey to walk beneath them, he could sense it. This was no ordinary snake.

"Rhys!" He heard Maisie's panicked shriek from inside the room a moment later, as he tried to get his arm free from the massive python's crushing coils.

It was winding itself around his arms, immobilizing them, but also curling around his torso. It hadn't started to fully constrict yet, but Rhys knew that if he couldn't struggle his way out of its grip, he'd be in trouble.

I could shift, he thought – and it was a tempting idea. He'd do it if he had no other choice, but right now, the edict about not revealing his shifter form to the public was too strong. Michael and Shaz might have done it, but Michael had always been a loose cannon; and it gave Rhys all the more reason not to now.

No, he'd fight the snake off as a human.

Or try to, Rhys thought – just as the snake wrapped itself around his legs and he finally lost his balance, toppling into the pool.

The cold water was a shock to his system, and he hadn't had a chance to take a deep breath before he'd fallen in – not that he could right now, with an enormous snake constricting his chest. But the fall seemed to have shocked the snake too – just for a moment, Rhys felt its grip loosen slightly on his right arm.

I have to take this chance!

He knew he didn't have a moment to lose. Struggling to right himself in the water, Rhys straightened out his newly free – or at least somewhat free – arm, smashing the section of the python that was coiled around it into the concrete side of the pool.

It writhed, clearly in pain, and Rhys struggled to get his feet under him to stand up. His lungs were burning, both from the python's constricting coils and from being underwater.

If I don't finish this up soon, I'll have to shift, he thought desperately, as, once again, he smashed the snake into the side of the pool.

But this time, it only tightened its grip.

Shit, Rhys thought, as, kicking his legs as much as he could, he tried to find his way back to the surface of the water. If he could even get one small gasp of air, it would be enough –

But apparently, the python sensed what he was trying to do. A coil wrapped around his throat.

Shit. This isn't going well.

But nonetheless, with the next powerful kick of his legs, he managed to break the surface of the water.

He hauled in as deep a breath as he could with the snake still wrapped around him. Next to his ear he heard a truly evil hissssss , and turned to find himself staring into the malevolent eyes of the python shifter.

Growling, Rhys felt his griffin bursting forward, filled with rage.

This thing dares to come near our mate! We will have its blood!

The griffin's fury ran rampant through his mind, threatening to overtake it entirely. Out of control of his own body, Rhys felt his hand, imbued now with the griffin's strength, shoot up, grabbing the python beneath its jaw.

We will show this creature what happens when it threatens a griffin's mate! the griffin bellowed, as Rhys tried to forced his limbs to move, to dash the snake's head against the side of the deck –

But before he had the chance, the snake was suddenly knocked sideways, its jaw wrenched from Rhys's hand with the force of whatever had just hit in. The snake careened backward, splashing down into the water, and all at once, Rhys felt the tight constriction it had had around his body slacken.

What the – he started to think – before he looked up, and saw Maisie brandishing the empty champagne bottle like a baseball bat.

Maisie. Maisie was what hit the snake.

Her face was set in a grimly determined mask, but Rhys could still sense how frightened she was. Still, she gave him a small, tight smile as their eyes met.

"You looked like you could use a little help," she said, as she reached out a hand to him.

"You weren't wrong," Rhys said, as, taking her hand, he hauled himself up out of the water. The python was sinking down fast, clearly out cold – kneeling, Rhys, grunting with effort, got his hands around the largest section of its body and hauled it onto the deck.

"What – what is that?" Maisie asked, her voice shaking. "I mean… I'm guessing that's not a regular snake. A shifter?"

"Yeah," Rhys said grimly, as he stared down at its limp form. After a moment, the transformation he'd been waiting for began – with a shimmer, the snake began to change. Now that it was unconscious, it was reverting to its human form.

"But that – that's –" Maisie cried, as she stared down at the now soaking wet human lying on the deck at their feet.

"Bee, the personal butler," Rhys said, shaking his head. "I cannot believe the butler did it."

"Oh my God, that is such a cliché," Maisie said, letting out a shaky laugh. "But I guess… this means she wasn't really the butler?"

"My guess is no," Rhys said, shaking his head. "She's probably a plant – sent here to scope us out and attack when the time was right. Maybe she came to do the job last night, and trashed the room looking for us when we weren't here. Or just to provide a distraction and lure us in."

"But… but why? " Maisie asked, blinking. "And how do they even know we're here?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Rhys said, taking her hand. "According to Michael, someone's tracking my movements and reporting them. But I don't know how, why, or to who."

"Are we safe now?" Maisie asked, her voice still trembling as Rhys led her across the room to the door.

"I hate to say it, but probably not." Rhys opened the door, peering out. The coast seemed to be clear, but he couldn't possibly know for sure. "There's a chance that Bee the Butler was from Hargreaves. And where there's one Hargreaves agent, there's usually more."

"Um." Maisie whispered, as, cautiously, Rhys led her from the room. "Hargreaves the… computer software company?"

"That's only one of the things they do," Rhys explained, as they hurried along the portico. "They have their fingers in just about every pie you can think of, from computer software to mining operations to weapons development. But they're also mercenaries, a private army for hire – and that's where most of their money comes from. But the important thing is, they're run by shifters. And there's no limit to what they'll do in pursuit of money and power."

"Wow. Okay. I thought they just made anti-virus software," Maisie murmured. "Remind me not to buy their stuff."

Rhys let out a low laugh. "Okay. I think I can do that. It's on my to-do list."

He paused at the edge of the main resort building, scanning the area. The resort itself spanned a massive amount of land – there was the tall, white building they'd just left that housed the luxury rooms, and hugged the edge of the massive pool that stood on a terraced piece of land before the beach itself. Across from that was a huge walkable area of pale sandstone, on the left leading to the marina, and on the right leading to the main shopping, restaurant and entertainment area of the resort, where Rhys and Maisie had bought their new clothes the day before.

I can't sense anything, Rhys thought, as he used his griffin's senses to scout the area. But there didn't seem to be any danger – all he could see was the staff of the island opening up for the day, unlocking the wide glass doors of the fancy designer shops and putting out signs for the restaurants and activities that would be starting up later in the morning.

But then again…

The memory of yesterday came back to him suddenly – he hadn't been able to sense that Bee the Butler was a shifter at all when she'd first come to their room to introduce herself, which Rhys now realized was just her scouting them out to make sure she'd gotten the right room before her attack.

Lucky we decided to take off on our private trip, Rhys thought, grimacing. He was troubled, however, that he hadn't known Bee was a shifter until he'd seen her shift – but then, he'd known that was something that was possible.

There were serums that could temporarily suppress a shifter's animal form if they needed to go undetected by other shifters for a while – his teammate Trent had told him about them, since he and his mate Zina had only escaped from a tricky situation last year by taking the serum and making themselves able to pass as normal humans while some Hargreaves agents had been tracking them.

That must be what Bee was using, while she was doing her recon.

Rhys frowned. That was going to make his life a lot more difficult. He couldn't sense any shifters around them right now, but that, apparently, meant nothing.

At least if they're undetectable as shifters, that means they won't have access to their shifter forms right now, he thought – though it was cold comfort. But he'd just have to do what he could.

"Come on," he said, turning to Maisie. "Let's head into the shopping area."

"Are you sure?" Maisie asked, as she followed him. "It could get pretty busy."

"That's what I'm banking on," Rhys said, as they hurried over the sandstone walkway. "Even criminal shifters hesitate to reveal themselves in front of humans. If we stay in more crowded places, we may be able to buy ourselves a little time, since – I hope – they'll try not to do anything that'll draw too much attention. That's how Hargreaves prefers to function: in the shadows."

They paused as a crowd of tourists walked by them, all talking loudly on their way to breakfast. None of them seemed to pay any attention to Rhys and Maisie, but still, Rhys tensed, scanning each of their faces in turn.

We must protect our mate, his griffin growled. Even if it means revealing ourselves, we will not allow any harm to come to her.

Let's hope it doesn't come to that, Rhys told it, but he knew that he'd be prepared to do it if it did. He didn't care, at this point, if it got him fired or exiled from polite shifter society – all that mattered was Maisie's safety.

"We need to get off this island," Rhys muttered, as they made their way down a wide avenue of opening shops. The fact was, as long as they were here, there was really nowhere they could run. They were stuck on the same patch of land as whoever was hunting them, with nowhere else to go.

"Do you think we can get on one of the yachts taking people back to the airport?" Maisie asked.

"That'd be the simplest way," Rhys agreed. "Better than stealing a helicopter, which was going to be my next suggestion."

"Oh… can you, uh, do that?" Maisie asked.

"Well, I wouldn't like to say I'm an expert, but if I needed to I could get it done." Rhys moved slightly to shield Maisie with his body as two resort employees passed them, chatting to each other and paying them no mind. "But I'd really prefer to keep things a little more low-key than that."

"Good to know." Maisie nodded. "Sorry, I don't really have any skills that can help us here… though if the helicopter needed me to change its catheter or monitor its insulin levels, we're set."

Rhys laughed. "Well, let's hope not. I think the first thing we need to do, though, is get to the dock. Even if we miss the yacht, we might be able to find some other way off the island."

"We can go down this way, I think," Maisie said. "It'll take us through the activities area – the mini-golf course and the arcade are down there, but we can cut through them to get to the path leading back around to the docks. I was checking out the map on the morning we met, since I was going to be staying around there in one of the cheap rooms."

"Can't believe you gave up your view of the mini-golf course," Rhys said, as he took her hand, leading her in the direction she'd pointed.

"Well, if I'd known our private butler was going to turn into a giant python and attack you, then obviously I would have stuck with my original room." Maisie gave him a quick, shaky grin.

"We definitely need to write a complaint about it when we get back. Don't remember ordering the giant python at all," Rhys said, unable to stop himself from smiling back.

The mini-golf course was still closed when they arrived there, which suited Rhys just fine.

The closed gate had a big cartoon sign on it showing giraffes and elephants with comically under-sized golf clubs trying to hit balls into obstacles shaped like open mouths and twirling tunnels, but it was low, and Rhys hopped over it without any trouble before turning and lifting Maisie over after him.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to how strong you are," she said, sounding a little breathless, as Rhys took her hand again, leading her down the slope to the course.

The course was surrounded by trees, swaying in the breeze – once they were crossing it, it felt surprisingly isolated. They were completely out of view of the surrounding areas of the resort.

Rhys was uneasy. Shortcut to the docks or not, this was what he'd wanted to avoid.

Nothing I can do about it now, he thought, as they hurried past a hazard that looked like a woman lying on her side on a beach towel, raising and lowering her leg to block the tunnel. We'll just have to –

Just as he thought it, his griffin's shifter senses suddenly flooded his mind.

Danger!

Rhys whipped around, but he couldn't see anything yet, even as his eyes scanned the trees.

"What is it?" Maisie whispered, alarm plain on her face.

"I'm not sure yet," Rhys said. He still couldn't see anything. "But let's hurry."

Just as he started tugging Maisie along by her hand, he finally felt it – something approaching, and fast, from behind them –

"DUCK!" he yelled, throwing himself down behind a massive flower-shaped obstacle and pulling Maisie down with him. He'd barely gotten their heads down and shielded by the tunnel formed by the flower's stem when a massive golden eagle swooped through the space they'd just been in, screeching in fury that its attack had been foiled.

Its huge, sharp talons still managed to rip a chunk of fiberglass out of the flower's petals, however, showering Rhys and Maisie in plastic and plaster as they lay beneath it.

Shit!

Clearly, that was no ordinary eagle, Rhys thought, as he watched it sweep upward again, breaking through the trees and soaring upward, clearly preparing itself to turn for another pass.

No ordinary eagle would be doing anything like that – whoever it was working for, Hargreaves or someone else, it was clearly a shifter.

"We have to move," Rhys said, pulling Maisie upright before catching her with an arm around her waist.

Even though Rhys knew he'd never swap his shifter form for anything else, he found himself cursing just a little that he didn't turn into something a little more able to blend in with the crowd. If he could turn into a bush turkey or a stone curlew right now, he could run all the way to the docks and no one would look twice. But a griffin was the kind of thing that really tended to turn heads.

What is the point of shifting into something that does not turn heads? Why would you be a shifter, if you could not display your magnificence to all and sundry?

Shut up, you pompous idiot! Rhys snapped, as he and Maisie slid down an enormous plastic dinosaur tail. Do you want to end up as a permanent exhibit at Australia Zoo?!

… Maybe, the griffin said mutinously. Perhaps at least there I would be properly appreciated.

You know what? I'm not talking to you right now, Rhys told it. If you don't have something useful to say – something actually useful – you need to shut the hell up. Maisie's life depends on it.

That , it seemed, was enough to shut it up, though it seemed like a close-fought thing.

"Whoa!" Maisie gasped as she yanked Rhys down behind a giant fake racing car, just in time to avoid a second attack from the eagle. Rhys winced as the steering wheel came off in the eagle's talons, carried off to be dumped who knew where – it would be just his luck that someone would spot them, and they'd get pinged for the damage.

Maybe he could bill it to his work.

"Look," Maisie whispered, and it took Rhys a moment to work out what she was pointing at – but there, hidden amongst the greenery, were a couple of putters that some lazy resort visitor had obviously decided to dump on the course, rather than return them to the kiosk.

"Fantastic," Rhys muttered as he darted out from cover to grab them, before ducking back behind the car. They weren't ideal as defensive weapons, but they'd definitely do in a pinch. At least they had something to ward off the eagle with now, even if Rhys wasn't sure they'd be good for anything other than a single use.

"We need to get moving," he said, and Maisie nodded determinedly, clutching her golf club tight. They scurried along the putting green and pushed through some bushes, coming out at a hole that was dominated by a giant windmill. The two of them slid in behind it, taking a moment to get their bearings.

Maisie looked up at Rhys, eyes wide, chest heaving with exertion. She looked scared – but also exhilarated, the color high on her cheeks.

"We're almost there," she whispered. Rhys nodded back.

An ungodly shriek had him whipping his head around, but he knew that sound even before he saw the source.

Plovers. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Not that a plover would kill him – well, probably not, anyway – but they could be vicious bastards when they wanted to. He didn't particularly feel like dealing with souped-up shifter plovers right now… or at any time, really. He liked his eyes intact.

He dared to look around the edge of the windmill, only to see a swarm of birds amassing nearby. A plover, that eagle from before – though apparently now without its steering wheel – a magpie, a cockatoo, a kookaburra…

Great. All the arsehole birds. And they're all coming for us.

"Cover your head," he muttered, and Maisie nodded, bringing her arms up over her face as the birds took off, gathering speed. Maybe if they could make it through the first salvo unscathed, they could escape out the back while the birds were regrouping.

Or maybe…

"Wait here," he hissed, and before Maisie could reply, he darted out a few steps to the tee-off point.

I'd better be right about this, or I'm going to look like a fucking idiot, he thought grimly as he waved his arms about. More than I do now, anyway.

He waved his arms higher, jumping a little in front of the windmill.

You'd better be motion sensor activated. Come on. Come on!

For a long moment, nothing happened. He was aware of the birds coming in at one hell of a pace, screeching in a way that he did have to admit was pretty disconcerting, and he leaped back behind the windmill and wrapped himself around Maisie –

Just as the windmill blades creaked to slow, cumbersome life, spinning first slowly and then faster.

It was nothing too impressive, but it was just enough. As a griffin, he knew full well that braking mid-air when you were going at maximum speed was a bit of a tough ask – and apparently it was the same for these guys. They slammed into the windmill blades with a series of thumps that made him wince, and which shook the whole windmill. Maisie shrieked, and Rhys held her tighter, pulling her in closer, feeling the thrum of her heartbeat under her skin.

"It's okay," he murmured in her ear, and he felt her relax slightly against him.

He dared to peer out again – the kookaburra was out cold on the green, the magpie was limping away, its feathers ruffled, and the other three were nowhere to be seen, presumably off licking their wounds.

Maisie lifted her head. "Are – are they –?"

"They're shifters," Rhys confirmed. "You don't have to feel bad for them or call the RSPCA. They're not innocent little animals – the opposite, in fact."

Maisie nodded, standing up straight. As if to illustrate his point, the unconscious kookaburra shimmered, and then began to grow into a pretty large, heavy-set man, lying face down on the plastic grass of the mini-golf course.

"Okay," Maisie said, blinking. "I feel a hell of a lot better now." She placed her hand on his arm, and he could feel the slight tremor in it. "Let's get out of here," she exclaimed, picking up her putter, and Rhys couldn't agree with the sentiment more.

They continued down to the back of the golf course, picking their way through the obstacles. He could hear distant voices – the island had well and truly woken up, and there would be people within sight any minute now –

Maisie gasped, and Rhys himself nearly jumped out of his skin a half-second later, scrabbling to push a near-frozen Maisie behind him. Because –

A crocodile shifter. Oh shit. Oh fuck.

He tightened his grip on the putter, for what good it would do him. Griffin mode was starting to seem like the only viable option – and the area was too enclosed to be able to easily fly out.

"Maisie," he said quietly. "I want you to very slowly and very calmly walk back away from here."

"Rhys –"

"I'll heal. You won't. And if I need to fight that thing, I need you to be out of range."

There was a pause, but then he felt her nodding. "I love you, Rhys."

His heart soared. Had he heard right? Was this simultaneously the best and worst moment of his life?

"I love you, too," he said. They were words he'd never been sure he'd be able to say before he met Maisie, but they came off his tongue easily – as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

If you are quite done with all this drama, his griffin sneered, you may wish to pay attention to the fact that that is not a real crocodile. It is a human-made facsimile. You buffoon.

Rhys blinked.

"Uh…"

"What is it?" Maisie whispered urgently. "Rhys? Where are you going? Rhys!!"

Rhys walked up to the crocodile and poked at it with the golf club, willing his heartbeat to slow down to something sane.

Yep. Fake.

Fuck my life.

Still, it was probably a good thing that it wasn't an actual crocodile, and instead just a horrifyingly realistic prop. Although the fact that there was an obvious golf ball-sized hole in its mouth – and another one in its rear – was probably a bit of a giveaway, really.

"Oh my God." Maisie approached the croc, looking decidedly wobbly. "You have got to be shitting me." She giggled… and kept giggling, until she started hiccupping.

But then, her eyes widened, and Rhys laughed for a moment – until they kept widening, and it was clear that it was in horror.

"Oh shit," she said. "Oh, shit ."

"What is it?" he asked – before he looked down. "Oh, shit ."

"Shit," Maisie agreed.

The brown snake – the enormous, much-larger-than-usual brown snake – slithered out of the crocodile's behind, hissing and showing its fangs. Its very, very deadly fangs.

"I am so sick of snakes today," Maisie breathed – and, before Rhys could stop her – before he could even move – she took a massive swing at it with her golf club, sending it… well, not flying , exactly, but certainly flopping . It came to rest a couple of meters away, clearly stunned.

"Fore!" Maisie yelled at it, her chest heaving with exertion.

Rhys shook his head, simultaneously terrified and impressed.

Our mate has saved you from two snake shifters today, his griffin said derisively. What have you accomplished?

What am I, chopped liver? Rhys yelled at it. I've done plenty!

Maisie really had saved the day, though. He pulled her close, feeling her warm, rapid breath against his throat.

"Rhys?" she said eventually, her breathing slowing to a more normal rate.

"Yeah?"

"Can we get the hell out of here?"

"Absolutely."

He lifted her over the back fence, setting her down gently on her feet. She seemed to be recovering quickly, but he still wanted to keep an eye on her until he knew she was okay. It'd been one hell of a day, and it'd barely even begun.

Another thing was playing on his mind, though.

"I meant it, you know," he said, as he vaulted over the fence, coming to land by her side. "What I said earlier."

She looked up at him, grinning. "Yeah, I know you did. I did, too."

He grinned back, feeling like an idiot, but not caring.

Yeah, it'd been one hell of a day, all right.

He leaned down for a quick kiss, wanting to take the time to savor it, but knowing it wasn't safe to do so. He pulled back reluctantly, wanting it to never end.

There'd be time for that later. All the time in the world.

He took her hand, and she squeezed it back.

"Right," he said. "Let's get off this island."