Shifting Selves (17 page)

We stepped into the stairwell and worked our way toward the lobby, both lost in our own thoughts. Vivian and Sera weren’t the only ones I’d nearly lost. It was pure luck and the grace of his remarkably hearty bear constitution that had kept Mac here with us. I knew he was beaten and bruised, and he was walking stiffly, but he was still walking.

So easily, it could have been otherwise. A piece of glass piercing his heart, a tree trunk crushing him, metal sheets slicing through his skin, and I wouldn’t be at the hospital. I’d be at the morgue or, more likely, I’d be curled up in a ball, feeling my entire world freeze with the knowledge of what I’d lost.

But I hadn’t lost anything, not yet. I’d screwed things up, but as long as he was here, I could try again. Sure, I might screw things up in a whole new way, and the smart money would be on me doing just that, but I still had the chance. I couldn’t waste it.

When we stepped into the hospital lobby, I saw Mac through the automatic glass doors. He waited by the car, leaning lightly against the hood. His weight was more than enough to cause the metal to droop toward the asphalt. There was a slight breeze in the air, and it whispered through his hair, causing the dark brown strands to dance in the wind. It was nearly nighttime now, and chilly enough that a family scurrying past were bundled in wool coats and scarves, but he wore only his usual untucked flannel shirt, red plaid this time, and a faded pair of jeans. He looked relaxed and unbothered by the weather, though his eyes were still sharp, constantly scanning and reading his surroundings.

He took my breath away, as no one had ever done before. I could use logic to explain my attraction to him. He was handsome and kind, determined and intelligent. He demonstrated a sense of honor rarely seen outside films featuring men at war. He liked me despite my faults and, in some cases, because of them.

And yet, that was only part of the truth. There was something else, something that logic and reason could never touch. I wanted him because some voice deep within was certain I belonged with him, though I could never say why, and because I thought he might belong with me, too.

He turned toward me and promptly stilled. I don’t know what he saw in my face, but it was enough to bring heat to his eyes. He didn’t move a muscle, and yet from a hundred feet away I felt him tense with awareness.

“Sera?”

“Hmmm?” Her tone was non-committal, but her mouth twitched with suppressed laughter.

“Stay here for five minutes, would you?”

“Just five? I know it’s been a long time, Ade, but it usually takes longer than that.” She smiled brightly at me, obviously giving up on the suppressed part.

“We’re not going to... Well, not in the parking lot. I just need a moment.”

She nodded and moved toward one of the lobby waiting chairs. One that, I noticed, faced the glass doors.

“Ahem.” I indicated a seat facing the opposite direction, which she took without further protest.

“Go get him, tiger,” she called over her shoulder.

I had no plan whatsoever. I only knew that whatever was between us, it wasn’t going away. Whatever reasons and excuses we wanted to offer for why we shouldn’t, whatever barriers he put up and whatever neuroses I needed to battle, whatever was between us was real.

I couldn’t change the past. I couldn’t alter my actions or his reaction to them, but I could damn sure stop pretending we were just friends and I was okay with that.

The doors slid open slowly, and I stepped through them. The cold night hit me instantly, the air sweeping over my exposed skin. I ignored it. I took long, deliberate steps toward him, never wavering. Mac rose slowly, a questioning look appearing on his face. I ignored that, too. I kept walking, one sure step after another, until the hundred feet that separated us disappeared.

“Aidan, I—” he began.

I didn’t let him finish. Before I even came to a stop, I reached both hands to his face, feeling his rough cheeks beneath my fingers. I tugged gently, and he didn’t fight me. He bent slightly and I met him, my body falling into his and my lips finding his own.

Our first kiss had been gentle, an exploration and query that barely hinted at the heat that could exist between us. This kiss was nothing like that.

This was a claiming. I used my lips and teeth and tongue to tell him I wanted him, that I could be his. I nipped at his bottom lip and ran my tongue against his, pulling him further into me, demanding. His surprise lasted only a moment before he met me in kind, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against him. He lifted me off the ground until I stood on tiptoes, my face level with his.

He bit me back, then soothed the sting with his lips. We kissed with no slow finesse, no planned seduction. It was desperate and angry and possessive, both of us aware of how close we’d come to never having this moment. I threaded my fingers through his hair, holding him tightly. I needn’t have worried. He was going nowhere. One arm wrapped around my waist, keeping me pressed against him, while the other slid under my shirt, his callused hand against the smooth skin of my back.

Everywhere he touched, he pressed me closer, until every inch of my body rested against his. I felt him everywhere. In my arms and legs, in my chest and core, I felt him, and warmth bloomed throughout my body, pulsing and hungry.

At last, we stopped using words to resolve our distance. We relied on lips and tongues and hands instead, telling long, timeless stories. With our bodies, we made fervent declarations and promises we’d not soon forget.

We broke apart reluctantly, and only a slowly-dawning awareness of our location kept us from undressing and continuing what we’d started on the hood of Sera’s car. He moved his hands gently to my cheeks, holding me in place as I’d held him at first. We stared at each other, unable to look away while we found our breath again.

“In the future,” I told him through heavy breaths, “I’m the one who decides when I’m ready to be kissing someone. Understood?”

“Understood.” He spoke with mock solemnity, but he didn’t fight the slow, unimaginably sexy smile spreading across his face.

“We still need to ride with Sera back to the cabin,” I said, lest he was considering the same plan I was, which involved finding the nearest motel room, locking the door, and not reappearing for a week. He nodded.

“But I think it’s time for you to take me home,” I told him, thinking of the enormous bed in his Airstream trailer. If possible, his smile became even more devilish. He nodded again.

CHAPTER 16

There has never been a longer car ride. Road trips across the continental United States have taken less time than that single ride from South Lake Tahoe to the cabin. If possible, Mac might have grown in the time between our ride down and the one back. He now seemed to take up the entirety of the car, his presence expanding in every direction until I could think of nothing but his scent, his skin, the solid weight of his body against mine. Even the dangerous stretch of road where we’d had our accident failed to distract me for long.

Regardless of my parentage, most days I still felt partly human. Chalk it up to too many years believing I had a human father and my deep yearning to live a life beyond the elemental island on which I’d been raised. I still felt comfortable in the human world, despite what I now knew about my heritage.

At that moment, however, my perceived humanity was on holiday. All I felt was magic. It flew through my body and danced on my skin, charging everything it touched. It was strong and all-encompassing, and I feared my water side wasn’t dominant enough to create such a powerful sensation of pure, unadulterated magic. Somewhere, deep in my rational brain, I felt a small voice attempt to assert itself, to warn me that something was off, that I was touching something unsafe.

I glanced toward Mac. He was in the front seat, so I could only see the back of his head and his shoulders, but that was enough. Even that sight called to me, their width and strength promising a safe haven. I couldn’t lose that, not yet. I took a quick look within, checking for any wayward fire magic trying to sneak through, and I crammed everything I found in the deepest part of my core, imagining it trapped in a metal box with a thick padlock. It was all I knew to do.

Despite my fears and Sera’s flat denials, everything I’d learned from Josiah and my mother, and from the actions of Brian and Trent, told me insanity was inevitable. If that’s what my future held, then I was taking everything I could get while I still had the chance. Whatever happened, I would at least have this time with Mac.

So far, Sera had shown remarkable restraint. She’d given us the five minutes I’d asked for, plus a few more, and when she joined us, she’d somehow done so without comment. At one point, I thought I caught her humming a decidedly boom-chicka-wow-wow type melody, but when I met her eyes in the rearview mirror, she’d only offered me an innocent smile. Worryingly innocent.

The longer we drove, the more charged the silence became. I knew the others felt it too.

Finally, at the halfway mark, it was too much. “We need music,” Sera announced. She leaned to her right, fumbling in the glove compartment while keeping her eyes on the road. The Mustang’s stereo had received one upgrade in its life, to a radio-cassette player, and the glove compartment spilled over with cassettes you could no longer find anywhere but the deepest reaches of ebay. She pulled one tape after another from the mess, glanced at it and tossed it to the ground until she found the one she wanted.

The tape fell into place with a decisive click and she promptly cranked up the volume. Sera did not believe music was good until it was destroying someone’s eardrums.

She sat back in her seat, a satisfied smile on her face. A second later, the whine of electric guitars pierced the speakers and we were hit with the punk onslaught Sera so favored. It wasn’t for me, but it was still a better option than awkward silence.

Then I realized which song she’d cued up. I met her eyes in the rearview mirror, trying to let her know with no words that I would kill her for this one, and I might even speed up my induction into the cult of the criminally insane just to bring that event about sooner.

She smiled back at me, this time with no attempt at innocence, while The Buzzcocks warned us of the perils of being an “Orgasm Addict.”

If there was one thing in this world I could count on, it was finding a dark sedan sitting in our driveway at the least opportune moment.

Mac saw the car at the same time I did. “No,” he announced. “No, no, no.”

While I appreciated that he was, for once, willing to join me in denial, his fierce rejection of their presence had little effect on the current reality. As Sera pulled her car to the far right side of the driveway, Carmichael and Johnson unfolded themselves from the front seat of their sedan.

“Damn,” said Sera. “I forgot Carmichael was trying to reach us. With everything that’s happened since yesterday, it completely slipped my mind. I’ll try to distract him for you.” I knew she meant it. She would tease me from now until the end of time about my love life, but she sure as hell wouldn’t let anyone else interfere. She walked toward the agents with great purpose, fully intending to head them off at the pass.

I leaned forward, placing my head between the bucket seats so I could see his face. Mac was staring at the agents with an emotion weaker than hatred but still stronger than annoyance in his eyes. “Why is he always here?”

“That’s rhetorical, right?”

He slid his eyes toward me. “All we need to do is run into those trees there. It’s dark, they won’t see a thing. We circle around, and we’ll be at the trailer before they even know we’re here. Far away from any and all overbearing pretty boy agents.”

I was torn between the desire to do exactly as he suggested and the desire to mock. As usual, the lesser desire won out. “Why, Mr. MacMahon. I do believe you sound jealous.” I batted my eyes at him for good measure.

“Why would I be jealous of them?” he said, almost sounding like he meant it. “What do they have to offer other than some well-tailored suits, expensive haircuts, years of education, and gainful employment?” He abruptly stopped speaking. I thought something had gone awry in the middle of that sentence.

There was a lot I could protest, but I began with the easiest to dispute. “You’re gainfully employed,” I argued.

“Construction work isn’t exactly booming right now, Aidan,” he told me.

“No, but you’re on the ski patrol.”

He snorted and then let out a short laugh. There was a joke here I was missing.

“How much time have you spent on ski slopes?” Mac asked.

“You mean, actually going down them while on skis? Exercising?” He knew how ridiculous that idea was.

“But you went to school with skiers. You know the basic body type, right? Several inches shorter than me and half as wide.”

I thought I knew what he was telling me, but it didn’t make any sense. Mac wasn’t a liar.

“I’m not a skier, Aidan. Never have been. That’s something Will and I came up with to tell people during the winter months.”

“So, all those days you would head off to work, what were you doing, exactly?” I tried to keep the suspicion out of my voice.

“Napping,” he said simply. “I was hibernating.”

I stared at him, my jaw a full inch below its proper position. “You really are a freaking bear, aren’t you?” He gave me an exasperated look I fully deserved.

“I work when the weather warms up, and pick up whatever odd jobs I can in winter. Mostly, though, I nap. I don’t need to vanish for months at a time, but I do need to spend most of the day asleep.”

“But this house. How do you afford it?” Real estate in Tahoe wasn’t cheap, and a house like this, right on the river, was bound to be ridiculously expensive.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Carmichael and Johnson watching us impatiently, likely wondering why we were still in the car. I didn’t care in the slightest. They could wait.

“It was in my mom’s family for years. I inherited it.” He watched my face intently, as if he was looking for a sign that I regretted my earlier actions. “That’s why I rent to Sera. It’s the best way to make ends meet.”

“So, just to be clear. I was about to sleep with a man who won’t tell me his first name, who doesn’t have a full-time job, and is a lazy bum who sleeps through several months of the year?”

He nodded, his face wary. “That’s about right, yes.”

I pointed to the trees he’d indicated a moment before. “So, race through there and meet at the trailer? Last one still wearing clothes loses.”

I was out of the car in a heartbeat, but not before I saw the grin crawl across his face.

I made it two steps before I heard Carmichael calling my name. On the other side of the car, an undeniable growl emerged from Mac’s throat, loud enough that I was certain the agents heard. “I think they saw us,” I mock whispered to him and continued to head toward the trees.

“Aidan,” called Carmichael again. I reluctantly turned around. He only called me by my first name when something was really wrong. “Would you mind telling me why, despite reports of a horrible accident involving a vehicle fitting the description of one your associate here drives, and despite reports that the lake actually tilted on its axis, all evidence of such events is being removed a second before Johnson or I can access it?”

“You’re too slow?” Someday, Carmichael was going to smile at one of my jokes. Just not this day. “Look, the elementals and shifters have been hiding supernatural involvement for years. When it comes to discretion, we’re all-stars while you guys, you’re kind of on the bench.”

Sera looked at me with equal parts amusement and shock. “I just used a sports metaphor, didn’t I?” I shook my head, thoroughly ashamed of myself. “Anyway, one of ours has been doing some necessary clean-up work.” I saw no reason to add that I was related to that person.

Sera’s head snapped up as if she’d just remembered something important. “With everything going on, I forgot to tell you. He phoned this morning.” She looked a bit embarrassed, as if worried I’d judge her for taking his calls. “There’s no question someone tampered with the car. All the tires were rigged with small explosives.”

Beside me, I felt Mac vibrate with anger. The agents had the opposite reaction, stilling until they resembled extremely serious wax figures.

“And it just happened to go off as we were crossing the most dangerous section of Emerald Bay Road?”

“There was a GPS device underneath the car. Whoever set it off knew exactly where we were.” Her eyes met mine, and the anger I saw matched the rage rising in me. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, forcing it back into my personal lock box. Several long, slow breaths later, I opened them to see Carmichael and Johnson staring at me with worry in their eyes.

“I feel like I’m always asking this when you’re around, Ms. Brook, but what the hell is going on around here?”

I shook my head. “I really wish I knew. I only have a few pieces of the puzzle.”

While we spoke, Mac separated from the group and returned to my car. He dropped easily to the ground and wiggled into position to view the tire well. When he emerged, he was carrying something dark and square in one of his hands. He chucked it in our direction before repeating the same procedure on Sera’s Mustang.

I bent to pick it up gingerly. I might not be especially tech savvy these days, but I could still make an educated guess that I held a GPS tracker in my hand. As I studied it, the one attached to Sera’s car landed at our feet.

The anger I’d tamped down a moment ago fought for release, and I was not alone. Sera was slowly losing herself, small spurts of fire popping from her body at random moments. Johnson merely looked at her in fascination, but at least Carmichael had the good sense to move out of range. Mac stepped into a thick grove of pine trees that ringed the house, and a series of loud crashing sounds followed.

Their loss of control, more than anything, drew me back to myself. Someone had to be the responsible one, and while I didn’t want the job, it beat watching Sera light things on fire while Mac decimated our local forest on a tree-by-tree basis.

Unfortunately, that meant doing the responsible thing, which was figuring this freaking case out before another shifter disappeared or another car went sailing over a cliff. I cast one long, regretful look toward Mac, then said what needed saying. “All right then. You show us yours, we’ll show you ours. Let’s try putting this puzzle together.”

On days that simply refuse to go the way they’re supposed to, sometimes tea is the only possible solution. So far, this day had involved visiting a friend who lay broken in a hospital bed, hearing that same friend basically break up with me, learning that someone had tried to kill me, and coping with some painfully thwarted libidinal impulses.

This day might require the big mug.

I walked straight to the kitchen and put the kettle on, then dropped in a tea bag and waited, staring impatiently at the kettle. Behind me, I could hear the scrape of benches as the others settled at the rough trestle table in the dining area. “What do you want?” I called over my shoulder.

“Booze.” Sera and Mac spoke in perfect unison. Smiling, I grabbed the tequila bottle for Sera and whiskey for Mac and carried both to the table, but not before adding a healthy dollop of the latter to my own mug. On days like this, even tea needed a bit of help to work its magic.

“Any more requests, you can help your own damn selves,” I announced, plopping down on one of the benches. I deliberately sat away from Mac, fearing that even a soft brush of our thighs under the table would be too distracting.

Johnson stood abruptly and headed out the front door. He returned with a large roll of butcher paper, which he proceeded to unroll down the length of the table. He waved a thick marker around, looking for a taker. Sera grabbed it and pulled herself onto the table, crouching near the top. In strong block letters, she wrote “The Case of the Vanishing and Forgetful Shifters,” then sat back, waiting for contributions.

“You just happen to carry butcher paper in the car?” I asked Johnson.

“I bought a new roll today,” he explained. “I like to keep some in my office. It helps me to see things written out in full.”

His words triggered a memory of sitting across the table while the former, serious version of this man thumbed through my private notebooks. I grumbled under my breath. He caught it, as I’d intended him to, and smiled at me apologetically. “I never did express regret for reading your journal, did I?”

“Nor for arresting me, I might note. Or Sera. When you think about it, it’s really amazing we even talk to you, let alone allow you into our house.”