Shifting Selves (10 page)

“But where were you?” Celeste asked. Even in her pill-enhanced haze, her mother’s instincts wanted an explanation for her son’s disappearance. If she knew what had occurred, she could prevent it ever happening again.

“I don’t remember,” he repeated.

“Did you run off with that girl? Did someone take you? Who were you with?” The questions fell from Celeste’s mouth, sloppy and rushed.

“I don’t remember,” he said, the dull despair from earlier giving way to anger. It wasn’t directed outward, however. James kept all his rage for himself. “I don’t remember anything. I remember getting in the car with Brandon to go to the lake, and that’s it until I found myself wandering naked through downtown Truckee. That’s all I know.”

“It’s okay, James.” Mac moved one step closer. “You don’t need to remember right away. You’re home now, and safe. That’s what matters.”

James met his eyes, and I watched him noticeably relax under the power of Mac’s reassuring words and demeanor. For someone with a penchant for destroying inanimate objects when pissed off, Mac was surprisingly good at calming others down. “I want to remember,” James said in a whisper.

Of course, every family has that member who can’t read a room, and it appeared Eleanor was this family’s version of the drunk uncle. “But what about Pamela?” She persisted. “If he can’t remember anything, how are we supposed to help her?”

James’s agitation returned instantly, and he began to shake. He looked much as Mac had the night he’d fought off an uncontrolled shift, ready to explode out of his own skin. Will and Mac sent matching death glares Eleanor’s way.

Mac looked at me, now huddled near the cash register, and I saw his concern, clear as day. He knew exactly what it might cost me to defend myself, if it came to that. “You need to leave now,” he said. “I’ll meet you at the cabin.”

I knew he was capable and strong and didn’t need my help. Even so, I was reluctant to leave him in the middle of the crisis if there was any chance I could help. James was still shaking uncontrollably, and there was no way of telling when or if he’d regain control.

Mac must have seen something of this in my face, because that look of amused exasperation he seemed to reserve just for me crossed his face. “I’m not protecting you. I know better than to try. But this is something we know how to do. Don’t distract me, okay?”

I couldn’t argue, and Sera urged me toward the back door. My last view of the shop was of Mac and Will standing on either side of James, whispering slow gentle words to a young man who looked ready to break into a million pieces.

CHAPTER 10

We exited through the back room, leaving an address where our new clothes could be delivered and a strong suggestion that the woman avoid the front of the shop for at least another hour, maybe two. That cost us another three hundred dollars worth of accessories, but at least we wouldn’t be responsible for a mauled shop girl on that particular day.

We arrived home just as full night was settling across the mountains. Finding the brightly lit cabin waiting for us was a welcome reminder that safe places still existed in the world. Sure, safe places that were occasionally set on fire or invaded by my demented parents, but it was still my home. After the unexpected parental visit the other day, Sera and I’d decided to keep the blinds open, allowing us to view the interior of the cabin and know, in advance, who was waiting for us. If my parents showed up again, I’d be prepared. Prepared to run and hide until they went away.

At that moment, however, it was just Vivian and Simon sitting quietly in the living room. There was a chill in the air, and they’d lit a fire. Simon lay before it in feline form, belly wantonly exposed to the flames. Vivian worked next to him, casual in a pair of yoga pants and a white t-shirt that advised people to adopt a direwolf.

As I watched, she absently gave his belly a quick rub, an intimacy I’d never expected Simon to tolerate. Instead, he arched his back a little, and I could almost hear him purring from the driveway. I’d known the two of them had become close friends, and I smiled to see it, but I also felt a bit sad at what Sera and I were missing while we ran around chasing shifters that didn’t want us in their business in the first place. Looking in at their peaceful tableau, I decided a quiet evening at home was exactly what we needed.

The peaceful vibe continued when we opened the front door and were met by the strains of dreamy music carried along by delicate vocals, so different from the raucous punk favored by Sera or the country I preferred. We hadn’t had much music in the house, partly because it seemed out of place amidst the tension and uncertainty that had recently defined our lives but mostly because it was damn near impossible for me and Sera to agree on music. She might control the stereo in her car, but there was no way I was conceding the house so easily.

It appeared Sera wasn’t in the mood for conflict that night. Rather than change the music or even comment on its lack of a backbeat, she stretched across a couple of throw pillows, eyes closed, and appeared to actually relax.

I looked around for the stereo and CD case, wanting to know what we were listening to, and found nothing. Instead, I saw Vivian’s laptop, connected by a single cable to a pair of small speakers.

“So, this is an mp3, right?” I asked, fairly certain I had this one right. I kept thinking I was caught up on current technology, and then I caught the looks my friends occasionally gave me, looks that contained a mix of surprise and amusement. I was doing my best to not sound like someone’s elderly aunt inquiring about “the google,” but I knew I succeeded less often than I’d like.

Vivian shook her head. “It’s a Pandora station. It’s playing Feist right now,” she told me.

“What’s a Pandora?” I asked. Damn. There was that look again.

Sera was already stretched across several pillows, and she didn’t move or open her eyes. “If you tell her, Vivian, I’m going to double your rent.”

Vivian was unmoved by this threat. Considering she paid nothing, that wasn’t surprising. She patted the cushion next to her, and when I sat down, she tilted the monitor so I could see the screen. Quietly, she described the website to me, then ran through a series of other music apps, reminding me again how much I’d missed during my time away.

I refrained from saying, “Gimme,” and grabbing the laptop from her hands, but only just. My excitement must have been palpable, as she finally handed the computer to me, leaving me to it. A moment later, I was lost in a mad series of keystrokes and clicks, looking for music I hadn’t even known existed that morning.

“Steve Earle has a son making music and you didn’t even tell me? Someone’s getting fired.”

Sera cracked one eye open and briefly considered responding, then decided her world-weary expression was answer enough. Happily ignoring her, I started a new station based on “Harlem River Blues,” then stretched out next to Simon, enjoying the fire alongside him.

“Why country?” Vivian asked. “I mean, you grew up on an isolated island in the pacific northwest. That’s not a place I’d associate with country music.”

I shook my head. “It wasn’t. Most of them preferred classical. Of course, most of them are so old, that was their version of pop music. I have one aunt, though, the youngest and craziest of the bunch. She loved human stuff, and she had a bunch of old records, Loretta Lynn and Johnny Cash and Dolly Parton.”

I paused, uncertain how to finish. Only Sera knew this story. “I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up. You know the old ones don’t have many children, so there weren’t other kids on the island. I read and watched a lot of TV and movies, and those characters kind of became my friends, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted to know more about the world I was missing, about the emotion behind it, and there’s no music in the world that can tell a story better than country music.”

Though I’d spoken in an even voice, I worried they’d view me with pity after hearing that story. I didn’t want them to guess how lonely I’d truly been. It was over now, and that was what mattered.

Simon rolled across the floor until his head was even with my knee, and he silently head butted my leg. Remembering his moment with Vivian earlier, I gently reached out a hand to scratch his head. He looked at me, and for a moment I thought I’d crossed a line, then he rubbed his cheek firmly against my hand, purring.

“You know he’s just marking you, right? You’re now owned by Simon.” I swore his small cat smile grew at Sera’s words. I kind of wanted to kiss her for knowing to change the subject.

I tugged lightly on Simon’s ear, then turned my own belly toward the fireplace, mimicking his pose. Unfortunately, the relaxed movements weren’t reflected in my next words. “What he’d want with such an unpredictable pet, I’ve no idea. If they knew what I was, my own people would put me down as a danger to society. That’s not doing wonders for my self-esteem.” I forced a laugh, trying to lighten the impact of my words.

I didn’t want my friends to fixate on my instability, and even I did my best not to think about it. Denial and I weren’t as close as we used to be, but we were still more than passing acquaintances. But between the peaceful vibe, the warm room, and the gentle guitars playing, my control had slipped and I’d aired my fears. I’d accidentally spoken the truth.

I felt my fire magic stir, reminding me how easy it would be to pull the flames to me, to warm and recharge myself in a way I’d never done before. I could be complete.

I determinedly avoided eye contact with the others, terrified of what I might see there. Support. Concern. Fear.

Sera pulled herself to a sitting position. “No,” she said.

I looked at her, eyebrows up.

“You’re not an animal. No offense, Simon.” If it was possible for a cat to shrug, that was his response. “You’re a thinking creature, in control of your actions. Well, most of the time. Or sometimes. Okay, on occasion you take the time to think before you act. Once or twice a year, at least.”

I knew the words were intended to comfort, but they were also intended to draw me away from the self-pity canyon I was threatening to fling myself into. It worked.

“You’re just pissed because I’m actually useful in this investigation, whereas you haven’t had the chance to set a single thing on fire.”

“I haven’t ruled out the Reno book club just yet,” she said. “Hope springs eternal.”

I laughed, and I was myself again, the fire within me once again as quiet as it had been all the previous decades of my life. We returned to our quiet evening at home. As the minutes passed and I didn’t feel the fire beckon again, I could almost convince myself I’d imagined its siren song.

A couple of hours later, just when I was ready to stop waiting, the door opened, and Mac walked slowly into the room. Normally, everything about his presence felt larger than life. Even more than his physical size, there was an aura that extended far beyond his bulk. When he was around, he seemed to take over any room in which he stood.

For the first time, Mac looked small. Sure, he was still approximately the same size as one of the local mountains, but his shoulders were pressed down and hunched, as if a series of weights were forcing him toward the ground. His strides weren’t long and confident. Rather, he shuffled into the room, head down.

When he saw us all gathered together, his eyes moved quickly to me. For a moment, longing flashed across his features, and I knew he wanted comfort as much as I wanted to give it. The moment passed, his face shuttering quickly, and he sat on the opposite side of the room. He pressed his back against the wall and tilted his head upwards, eyes closed. I thought he was trying to absorb some of the room’s peace for himself.

Simon shifted quietly and pulled on a pair of jeans. I appreciated the gesture. While I was growing increasingly accustomed to Simon’s nudist tendencies, it was a lot harder to have a serious conversation while steadfastly averting my eyes from Simon’s genitalia.

I didn’t want to rush Mac or interrupt his moment of calm in any way, despite being desperate to hear what news was bad enough to cause Mac to look weak. Fortunately, Sera had no such compunction. “Spill,” she demanded.

He rubbed his large hands roughly over his face, tugging at his skin and pulling at his hair until parts of it stood on end. It might have been comical, were it not for the heart-wrenching expression he wore.

“Is James okay?” I asked.

He shook his head, once, twice, then let out a harsh bark of laughter. “He’s calm again, if that’s what you mean. He’s talking. He can’t remember anything from the last couple days, but he’s eating and answering questions. We got him home, and he finally went to sleep a little while ago. The poor kid’s exhausted.”

The memory loss was worrying, and didn’t help us in our search whatsoever, but otherwise it all sounded like good news. There was nothing in his words to explain Mac’s attitude.

“What else?” I pushed.

He looked again toward the ceiling, perhaps hoping some new truth would descend from on high. He was not so lucky. Finally, he spoke. “James can’t shift.”

Simon went perfectly still. Even his eyes froze, and for a moment he seemed to disappear within himself, as if he was seeking his own magic that allowed the change, confirming it was still present. Slowly, his expression evolved into one of pure horror. “That is not possible,” he stated, as if to convince himself. “The animal is a part of us. It cannot be removed.”

Mac nodded, agreeing with Simon’s words, if not his conclusion. “I know.”

“He cannot even partially shift?”

Mac shook his head. “He feels the desire. He feels like he’s going to lose control. That’s what happened earlier. And then nothing happens.”

I watched the two shifters. I could only imagine what it meant to them. If I learned that my connection to water could be removed, I suspected I would look every bit as terrified as my friends did now.

Mac and Simon held eye contact for a long time, having a long, wordless conversation full of fear and confusion. This wasn’t something that was supposed to happen.

“I’ve never heard of this happening before,” said Mac, confirming my thoughts. “I’ve never even heard that it was possible.”

Simon shook his head. “Neither have I. You know more than I do, of course, having grown up with shifters, but I sought out a fair number of them in university. This is...” Simon tapered off, unable to finish. I’d never known Simon not to be perfectly precise and exact in his words.

“So, does this mean he’s human?” Vivian asked doubtfully. I was shaking my head even before Mac. Losing the magic that separated us from humans wouldn’t make us more like them. It would make us incomplete, unable to fully function.

Incomplete like I was, unable to access all of my magic.

I violently squashed that thought, refusing to pay it any attention, not now. Not ever. I was as I’d always been. That was more than complete enough for me, and right now, it really wasn’t about me.

“What happens if you don’t shift?” I asked. If elementals didn’t regularly access our element, we withered, much as a human would from lack of food or water. The magic is what connected us to the land, what recharged and repaired us. Without it, we were disconnected and weak. I hated the thought of that strong young man made powerless so early in his life. “Is his magic just gone?”

I felt a connection hover tauntingly out of reach, an answer I knew I possessed but was unable to grasp. I reached for it, but it flittered away.

Mac’s voice called me back to the present. “He doesn’t think so. James says he feels it, weak but still present. He just can’t access it. And no one can answer your first question, because there’s no evidence of this ever happening before. The most we can do is make an educated guess, based on the times shifters have deliberately refused to shift.”

Vivian was already putting the pieces together. “If you don’t shift, does that mean the beast has no release?”

Simon nodded. “We must give our animal halves free rein on occasion. It is what we are, and it should not be denied.”

Mac took a long breath and expelled it slowly. He met my eyes, and though I knew he didn’t want to ask for comfort, I tried to give it to him, tried to provide whatever support I could from across the room. “We know that, if we deny the animal, it only gains in strength. Hypothetically, it will become so strong it takes over. We think, if James is unable to shift, it’s only a matter of time before he becomes a wild animal that just happens to look like a human being.”

That night, sleep eluded me. My window faced the rear of the house, and the coursing river that ran behind the cabin, thick and heavy with melted snow, usually offered a source of peace and helped me find an easy oblivion. After the events of that day, however, I found no solace in the water’s gentle power. Every time my eyes drifted shut, they popped open again, as if the answers might be found on my bedroom ceiling.