Protect and Serve Shifting Forces (2 page)

But it’s bad being a paranormal if you aren’t rich or famous. Then you’re pissed on, shut out, and forced into places and situations that only get worse when the government declares war against you. The outlaws in the cities we clear out didn’t all start bad, and they’re not all paras. But when you have no other choice, you have to survive somehow.

I made my choice. It’s the same choice a lot of us make. I hide what I am and pass as a normal in the military. I do what they tell me to, and I fight who they tell me to. I kind of like eating, and not being hunted. Yeah, not being hunted is good. I hate having to hide who and what I am, but a guy’s gotta live, right?

“Okay everyone, file out! On your guard, you know what we’re up against.” Sergeant Turner’s voice grates over the troop, loud over the transport truck’s engine. My legs are cramped from riding so long, but I feel my adrenaline ramping up. It washes the piddly shit away and clears my brain for more important things. Like keeping my ass alive.

“Holy shit, will you look at that?” A fellow soldier stares down the street, his eyes wide. He points to the square, where a small group of people huddle against a wall, surrounded by a couple of cops with battered riot shields. “They’re in trouble.”

The rogues we’re here to evict roar out of the buildings in a disgusting stream of fucked-up mutants. I look back at the sergeant, hoping he’ll bypass orders. I know what they are; we all do. We’re here to clean the scum out of the city, with as few military casualties as possible. That’s what we’re paid to do and why I have a job.

But those people don’t look like paranormals. They look human, scared and under attack by the rogues. There aren’t supposed to be any civilians here, human or otherwise.

“Sarge?” He’s staring south, evaluating the situation. He shakes his head, standing his ground to let the fight come to him. We have cover here; choices. Escape routes if needed. It’s a good place to make a stand, and we’re outnumbered. I glance back at the horde and know what he sees, but I refuse to accept it. That group has no hope, no escape.

In the years we’ve been in the military, our troop has fought together, bunked together, and faced more shit than a swarm of city sewer rats. We’re trained soldiers, ready on a moment’s notice to follow orders without a second thought.

“Kender, stand steady! Do
not
put the team in jeopardy.” The Sergeant’s hand lands heavily on my shoulder. “Those people are already dead, son. It’s not worth it. Let’s fight the battles we can win.” He’s already lost a son to the paras in this war. He even took me under his wing like a surrogate son when I lost it in my first battle. While he has a major prejudice against paras, he’s never given me bad advice when it comes to war. He knows what he’s talking about.

Nodding, I fight the emotional rush pulsing through me, practically dragging me towards the red-haired girl in the huddle. She seems different than the rest of them.
Paranormal
? No, that’s not the feeling I get from her. She’s human as far as I can tell.

Not worth it
. I should take my mentor’s advice.
Stay with the troop. Just handle the outbreak as ordered. Keep your secrets safe. Follow your orders
.

“Run!” A cop’s shout pushes the little group into frantic movement. But the fight is too close for them to make it to the building before they’re overrun. Several of the rogues break off from the main charge, chasing after the humans. I notice a man behind the chaos -- standing stock-still in the middle of the street. In a bright flash of movement, he transforms.
A phoenix shifter
! He rises into the air, plunging toward the group.

She’s in danger! They’ll never survive
.

Overwhelmed by a forceful tide of panicked rage, I forget everything I’ve learned. Everything I’ve worked for. Everything I’ve spent my career hiding.
I have to help her
!

My sergeant’s hand grips my flak vest, pulling me back as I tense, gathering myself to run to them… save them. “No, Kender, no! I won’t lose you, too, damn it! That’s a suicide run!”

“Fuck it, she’s mine! I’ve got to save her.” I shake him off, his orders dimming in my sudden obsession to protect the girl. My shifter surges to the fore, shoving my humanity aside. In less than a heartbeat, my skin melts away and I feel the bones in my body transform in blurring movement. I flex my wings, lifting into the air as a full-blooded gryphon, leaving my friends, my mentor, and my human troop behind.

“What the hell? Kender, you son-of-a-bitch! You’re a god-damned traitor!” The sergeant’s astonished yell is mixed with rage as I race toward the endangered group, my secret revealed at last.

Sorry, guys
.

The phoenix’s determined advance forces me to the utmost limit of my flight speed. The rogues are all over the humans. I don’t know if I’ll make it in time. He’s closer than I am, coming under attack as he tries to pass over the larger battle.
What in the world? He’s fighting them. He’s trying to save the girl, not attack her
.

He yells as I draw near, his voice transformed into something inhuman by his shift. “Help me get the redhead out!” He gestures toward where she has fallen behind the smaller group in their break for the building. She’s almost in the grasp of a nasty-looking werewolf. If the rogue gets her, she’s a goner.

Close quarter fights don’t faze me, and I can do a hell of a lot more damage to these assholes than that phoenix can. He’s fast, but ineffective in a battle against so many. He’ll be able to get to her before I can. “You get the girl, I’ll hold them off.”

He finishes off his opponent, barely escaping the grasp of another rogue as he lifts back into the air. I can tell he’s almost done in, but he gamely races toward her.

To my horror, the werewolf reaches the girl before the phoenix does. My heart drops into my stomach. There’s no way a human can outrun one of those. I’m still far from the edge of the battle when she trips and goes down.
Fuck, no! She can’t die now
!

“Save her, damn it!” I brace for my mate’s death, praying she won’t suffer much, hoping the phoenix will reach her, but I know it’s a pipe dream. I extend my talons as I descend toward the mob.
They’ll pay for this
. By God, I’ll decimate every last one of them! This time, I fight not as a soldier following orders, but as a gryphon avenging my mate.

The girl rises and whips around to face her pursuer. Not with a death-cry in her throat, but with a crowbar and a home run swing that would hit the ball out of any stadium. The iron slams into the side of the werewolf’s head, knocking him off his feet, and half his face into an unrecognizable mash of meat. The girl is up and ready for another turn at bat, but the shifter isn’t moving.

The phoenix finally reaches her, dodging as she swings at him, too. She ducks under his reach and darts away, too close to the wolf. The phoenix says something to her, hovering low, waiting for her response. She nods and he grabs her, lifting her up just as I reach the battle.

Safe! She’s safe
!

A fat, ugly little vampire with a wicked-looking knife leaps from the ground toward me, ripping through the flesh on my leg and pulling me down into the fray. The stinging wetness of blood drips down my leg where the vamp’s knife laid it open. Not fatal, but damned annoying when you have to fight.

With a flash of fur, the distinctive growl of a werewolf sounds to my right. They’re everywhere! I spin around to face it, clawing with my talons and dodging its nasty teeth. Their bites can’t turn a gryphon, but they can sure make us sick. This one looks and smells like it’s been on the street for a long time.

He rushes me, barely missing my wing as I lift into the air in attack. Adrenaline tears through my veins, pulsing in a twisted hunger as I rake the werewolf’s back with my rear claws. The scent of his blood brings out the hunter in me; my focus is absolute. His flesh provides little resistance as I tear through clothing, bone and meat like melted butter. With a twist in between my talons and claws, I feel his spine snap.

Damn, it’s good to be a gryphon!

Dropping the body, I turn to snatch up another rogue, grunting when something jumps on my back, trying to ride me like a prize stallion. Turning my head, I see the piss-ant vampire who stabbed me. His eyes glow and he leans toward my neck, fangs extended.

“Seriously? Fuck off, you little freak.” My beak rips a deep slash of red in his side, knocking him off balance. He slides, tearing feathers from my neck on his way down. Shit, that hurts worse than being stabbed!

The vamp leaps again, more tenacious than a tick. Grabbing him in midair, I speed toward the edge of the square. Slamming him into the upper part of a three story building, I let loose with a loud, triumphant battle cry. His squeal of pain as he slides down the rough stone and crashes into the ground is terribly satisfying.

Panting with battle lust, I dive back into the fray. Yeah, it’s good to be back.

Aurora’s Blog (3)

I know I shouldn’t, but I look back. They’re coming up fast. The sound of something close -- too close -- pushes me to try and catch up with the cops who sprint ahead toward City Hall. So much for public service.

A low growl rumbles from behind as I run. I’m not going to make it.

Pain bursts through me when I kick something on the ground. I trip, going down hard on my hands and knees.
Damn it, not now
! A crowbar spins out ahead of me, skidding across the concrete. I grab for it, and a bright burst of hope fills the emptiness in my stomach. The metal bar feels like solid, cold vengeance in my hand.

I scramble back to my feet and face the creature chasing me.
Werewolf
. A rank smell folds over me as the huge creature pauses, panting for breath. His eyes are fiercely wild as he crouches to attack. Definitely rogue. It’s like looking up into the massive, dripping jaws of hell and I’m the dinner special. “I was fighting for
your
rights!” The werewolf’s eyes widen as I swing the crowbar at him with every fear-laced ounce of strength in my body. The impact jars all the way up my arms.

God, don’t drop it
! Readjusting my grip on the weapon, I fight the aching pain, ready to hit him again. The creature goes down before me, half his face mangled. He doesn’t move. Relief runs through me until a strange heat stirs above me. Have the buildings caught fire?

The steady beat of wings accompanies the warmth and I raise my weapon again, swinging at the thing attacking from the air. It rises above my reach, hovering in a fiery, bird-shaped silhouette. A phoenix? I thought they were just legends.

“Lady, stop waving that damned crowbar around. I’m trying to save you! Reach up so I can get you out of here before we’re overrun.” I look around; he’s right. The rogues have taken over the square, and those cops are long gone. A feeling of trust flows through me, as warm as the radiant heat from his beating wings. I raise my arms.

He grips me underneath my arms without digging his talons in, and then lifts off. I’ve always dreamed about flying. Curiously, I feel safe with him, though I have every reason to distrust paranormals today. A shiver of lust has me wondering what he looks like as a human. They all seem to have human forms -- that’s how they passed unnoticed for so long.

“Ahhhh! No!” Nauseating, ripping agony tears through my leg. The loathsome stench of the werewolf rises as it hangs on by sharp claws anchored in my thigh. I can feel the phoenix straining with the extra weight as he tries to lift me.

“Bitch, you aren’t getting away that easy!” The werewolf’s pained, raspy voice sounds my demise. We dip lower as the phoenix fights to keep me in his arms. A warm wave descends over me where he holds me -- infusing me with hope, strength. The solid weight in my hand reminds me that I am still far from helpless.

I grip the crowbar at the top with both my hands and stab downward, the pointed edge aimed right into the werewolf’s face. He yells as he sees it coming, but he has nowhere to go. The iron rips through his throat, flesh giving way to metal. A gurgling growl surges with blood as his claws tear free. His weight drops, pulling the crowbar from my hands.

Sweet, numbing darkness descends over me as my phoenix rises toward the sun.

* * *

“Damned werewolf caught her. She’s losing too much blood.”

The excruciating pressure on my leg rips a guttural sound out of my throat. I can’t open my eyes, but I can hear. The voice sounds professional, like he knows what he’s doing. Doctor? Rescue worker?

“Crap, she’s coming to. I need to close the wound before she bleeds out.”

“Here? Now?” a deeper, more growly voice questions.

“Yeah, it’s a risk, but she won’t make it if I don’t.”

I fight to rouse myself. These men are talking about me like I’m not even here -- and I am! I open my mouth to yell at them, but a horrible explosion of pain comes out instead. Nausea rises in my throat as the waves of hurt wash over me. I force my limbs to move, but one of them curses under his breath.

“Hold her still while I block the nerves, she’s going to make it worse thrashing around like that.”

More hands join the first holding pressure on my leg, holding me down. Blessed relief folds me into its comforting arms as the pain suddenly recedes and numbness takes over. I float in the dark, lost in the stark contrast between consciousness and oblivion.

* * *

“Why isn’t she waking up? Fix her, damn you!” The growly voice echoes the denial rising in my chest as I try to pull myself out of the darkness.

“Back off. I’ve stopped the bleeding. The rest is up to her.”

“If she dies, you die.”

“Would you guys just shut up? And here I thought the werewolf was bad…” Finally, I can open my eyes. Two men face off, almost shimmering with rage. That’s got to be shifter magic! Real paranormals in the flesh -- right here next to me. I swallow, forcing the automatic shiver of apprehension back. If they’d wanted to hurt me, they would have done so by now.

“You’re alive.” The big guy is the one with the growly voice. Fierce green eyes and tawny hair, cut short in a military-style buzz. His finely toned, muscled chest strains at the olive-green T-shirt. Thick thighs fill out his camo pants, affecting me in ways I can’t even begin to process.