Part 18 (1/2)

”Gavin killed my mother. Jack and Nate were actually pretty d.a.m.n nice to me, all things considered. The Rakshasa killed Jack. I tried to save him, but at the time, I was hindered by some tight G.o.dd.a.m.ned ropes around my wrists.”

”Oh. Well, thanks?”

”Don't thank me. He's dead.”

”Nate isn't. So thanks.”

”I didn't save him. The Rakshasa caught up with us. Jack refused to tell them where you all went, so they killed him. Nate was a little easier to convince.”

Sydney gasped, and Brandon nodded grimly. ”Yeah. They caught up to us in Missouri. The only reason I got to live was because they still haven't gotten all their money.”

”I can't believe you paid them to capture Gavin. Those s.h.i.+fters were your friends. And I happen to be your Chala.” Accusation was thick in her voice.

Brandon had the grace to look abashed. ”I know. I was stupid. I acted rashly.”

”You acted on a two-hundred-year-old grudge. That's the ant.i.thesis of ras.h.!.+”

Brandon's neck reddened. ”Look, I didn't realize, okay? All I knew was Gavin the bada.s.s Rakshasa. He killed my mother, Sydney!”

”I know. And I'm sorry for your loss,” Sydney said sympathetically. ”But it happened over two hundred years ago. He is in a far different place now. And I know it won't bring your mother back, but I truly believe he has more than purged his sins.”

”Yeah, yeah, I know. I get it, okay? I was stupid. I know he's changed now. I could see it-in you. You're the reason he's in a better place.”

Sydney barked out a laugh. ”Shows what you know.”

”I can tell by the way he looks at you,” Brandon insisted. ”The way he treats you. It's you, Sydney. You, the Chala. His Chala.”

She snorted. ”Apparently you didn't get the memo. I'm not his Chala. We're-we're an aberration, apparently. We-” Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat as she tried to blink back tears. She'd thought-hoped-they were all dried up by now. Apparently not.

”He's still a Rakshasa,” she said miserably. ”And I was recently informed that he and I-that . . . that . . .” She couldn't even say it. Saying it made it real.

Brandon understood without explanation. Apparently she was the only one who hadn't gotten the memo. He whistled. ”That sucks. Gavin must be pretty broken up.” He didn't look as if he minded so much that Gavin might be broken up. Apparently, Brandon realized the error of his ways, but that didn't mean he had to exactly like the man. It may have been two hundred years ago, and Gavin may have changed, but he had still killed Brandon's mother.

Sydney cleared her throat again. ”How-How are you here? Are you . . .? Have I . . .?”

”Am I here to capture you and hand you over to the Rakshasa? No. I escaped. I had to get here to warn you.”

”Warn me?”

”They're coming. They know where you are. You have to get back to your pack. They're right behind-”

”You!” Sydney screamed. Her eyes widened when a giant fur-covered creature dove out of the undergrowth and leaped at Brandon's back. ”Duck!”

Brandon instinctively obeyed. The s.h.i.+fter dove right over his head and all four paws slammed into Sydney, knocking her to the ground.

Brandon immediately realized his mistake and ran at the animal, grabbing fistfuls of fur and forcing him away from Sydney. By the time the s.h.i.+fter turned around, Brandon had s.h.i.+fted as well, and they circled each other, teeth bared, saliva dripping from thick, sharp fangs, eyes glowing brightly in the pouring rain.

They lunged, and soon were rolling on the ground, jaws snapping, spittle, blood, and fur flying every which way. Sydney scrambled to her feet and backed up against a tree, feeling helpless, as she watched the animals battle.

The sense of awareness she was fast coming to recognize as a warning sign that a s.h.i.+fter was in her vicinity washed over her, and Sydney knew instantly this was foe, not friend. She stood stock still, waiting to see where the next one would emerge. She almost missed him, because he was a flying ma.s.s of fur and fangs, as he leaped into the snarling fight carrying on in front of her.

”Oh no!”

With the three of them in animal form, it was impossible to tell how well Brandon was faring. Sydney had no idea what to do. She had a little magic, and she could start flinging it, but what if she accidentally hit Brandon? He'd be rendered utterly helpless, and they wouldn't hesitate to kill him. So she decided a different tactic.

”Hey, boys! The prize is over here!” She stepped away from the tree, waving her hands to get their attention.

Both s.h.i.+fters lifted their noses and sniffed the air, and then turned almost as one to face her.

Brandon s.h.i.+fted back to human form long enough to say, ”Are you f.u.c.king crazy, woman? Run!”

Instead, she threw a dose of magic at each s.h.i.+fter, rendering them both frozen. Then she ran to Brandon. ”Come on.” She grabbed his hand, practically dragging him with her.

”Ow, stop! Fates, Sydney, I can't run right now. d.a.m.n it, one of them bit my ankle near off. Ow!” Brandon complained as he limped along.

”That spell only lasts for a short time. Uh-oh.”

Three s.h.i.+fters were standing in a row, facing them, growling malevolently. The spell had worn off.

”How do they keep multiplying like that?” Sydney wanted to know.

”There are probably thirty more on the way. Run. I'll fight them off. Get back to your pack and tell them to prepare for war. It's coming. Go!”

”What about you?”

”Hey, consider it payback,” he said, trying to be flip.

”No.” Sydney turned and faced the trio of angry s.h.i.+fters, standing at Brandon's side with her hands balled into fists.

He gave her a disbelieving look. ”No way. Get out of here. I'm not going to have your death hanging on my head.”

”Then I suggest we ensure neither one of us dies.”

Easier said than done. Sydney couldn't s.h.i.+ft, so she was forced to fight off three overlarge, vicious dogs with only her fists, feet, and a few doses of almost completely ineffective magic.

Brandon roared, s.h.i.+fting into an animal at the same time. He slammed into one of the attacking Rakshasa, knocking the dog off its feet. It rolled several times until it hit a tree, and while it hadn't been rendered unconscious, it took its time climbing to its feet.

Brandon twisted to the right and caught another one along the side of its belly, his razor sharp claws slicing through fur and skin and muscle, causing the other dog to howl in pain.

A stab of pain on her leg caused Sydney to turn her attention to the third Rakshasa, who had sliced his long, black claws across her ankle, causing her to cry out and drop to one knee. She focused on her magic and flung it at him, momentarily freezing him.

But she was already weakened, and the spell wore off within minutes. He came at her again, snapping at her arms and legs as she tried to fend him off. She delivered a solid kick to his snout, but he shook it off and responded by clamping his jaw down on her wrist until she heard bones crack and she screamed in agony.

Brandon she a.s.sumed it was him leaped onto the Rakshasa's back, grabbed it by the scruff of its neck and tore off a piece of flesh and fur. Blood spurted, indicating he'd found an artery. The animal writhed and yipped, clearly in pain, and Brandon let it go to focus on the one he'd attacked first, which had recovered enough to go another round.

In minutes, Brandon and Sydney were exhausted, grievously injured, and barely able to fend off the remaining two Rakshasa. They sat side by side, their backs against a tree, making feeble attempts to defend themselves, as the Rakshasa toyed with them, like a cat would a mouse. Seemingly tired of the game, one s.h.i.+fter rushed at them, las.h.i.+ng out and catching Sydney, its claws slicing across her neck. She screamed and slapped her hand against the wound. Warm blood gushed, soaking her hand and her chest.