“We might have to kill Kent,” Marc said, as his computer hummed and beeped, the outdated dial-up modem protesting its involvement in the day’s work.
“Kent’s already made his choice, and he’ll have to live with the consequences. Or not.” Jace frowned again, and I knew what he was thinking. I didn’t want Parker to lose another brother, and I certainly didn’t want to be the one who made that happen. Especially after Kent had offered me what he naively considered to be safe asylum in my own former home. But there were bigger issues at stake, and I’d do what I had to do to protect my men.
And to earn their trust back.
I’d just finished the third and final sandwich when Marc finally spun in his desk chair to face me. “Okay, we take off from Jackson at 9:38 in the morning. We need to be there an hour early, minimum, and it’s a two-hour drive. So we’ll have to leave here around 6:00 a.m.”
“Great. Thanks.” I finished my now-lukewarm coffee, then handed both dishes to Jace. “I’m going to Shift a couple of times, and hopefully start to put this head trauma behind me. Not to mention the broken nose. I can hardly stand to look in the mirror at the moment.” And the lower arc of my field of vision was a bluish-purple haze of bruises I could barely see.
“You’ll have to eat again between Shifts,” Jace said, heading slowly, reluctantly, toward the hall. “I’ll bring some more sandwiches in about half an hour. Do you need anything else?”
“A meat mallet and one more shot at Dean’s head,” I said, carefully pulling the T-shirt over my head all on my own. If I couldn’t take the pain of changing clothes, how the hell was I going to Shift?
Jace forced a grin, but beneath the effort, he looked tense. Disappointed. “Soon, hopefully. Yell if you need anything else.”
I tried on a smile, but it didn’t work. “Thanks, but I just need to Shift.” And to heal. And to think. And to become a competent, respectable Alpha overnight. I met Marc’s gaze. “Can you get the guys up to speed on the plan? And smell Parker’s breath? He’s officially cut off from the bar until further notice.”
“Sure.” Marc selected Shut Down from the start menu on his desktop, then turned off the monitor and stood to push his desk chair in. “Do you want me to bring you more coffee? Or some water?”
“I’m fine for now, guys. Really.” I glanced over Marc’s shoulder into the hallway. “Could you close the door? I don’t think Holly needs another demonstration quite so soon.”
Marc nodded and disappeared into the hall, and the door clicked shut behind him. And I was alone enough that I didn’t have to wear the Alpha face I hadn’t yet perfected. Or the enforcer’s poker face I wore all too often. Or any other face that would hopefully hide how scared, and furious, and unsure, I was. How convinced some deep, dark part of me was that this new plan, this latest reincarnation of the fight-or-die routine, would fail spectacularly and kill not just me, but everyone I loved.
I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t afford to lose again.
I shoved my shorts down and stepped out of them, then carefully lowered myself to my knees on the rough carpet. My side felt like I’d been stabbed. My left hip protested sharply and my shoulder sang in harmony with it. Even my nose throbbed harder from my change of position—or maybe altitude—and it felt like someone had driven a hammer through the left side of my skull.
I embraced the pain as both penance and consolation. It was the consequence of losing the most important fight of my life, as well as proof that I’d survived. Pain was a reminder of my arrogance and weakness, and if I ever forgot that lesson, Dean would kill me. I had no doubt of that.
So instead of ignoring the pain, I called out to it, reaching for more. Pain is part of who I am. It’s the defining characteristic of a Shifter’s transformation. Pain is what I suffer from my enemies. It is what I deal out to those who break our laws. It is what I protect my charges from. Pain is what I inherited from fate, that fickle bitch who gave me a mouth and fists, then put me in a world that wanted only my womb and my cradled arms.
Pain is what I feed from when nothing else will nourish the noxious fury in my heart. It’s what I cling to when everything else—everyone else—slips right between my grasping fingers.
And pain was what I clung to that afternoon, with my brother and father murdered, my Pride stolen, my body beaten, and my responsibility crushing me like the weight of the world resting firmly on my chest.
I closed my eyes and called out to pain—in all its glorious forms—and rode it like a runaway horse.
Miguel pins me to the floor of a commercial van, while I fight nylon rope and try to scoot away. His grip bruises my thigh, his invasion bruises my soul…. In my present hell, fueled by remembered rage and pain, my hands and feet thickened into paws.
Miguel straddles me on a bare mattress in a filthy basement cell. He punches my face, but that doesn’t shut me up, so he punches me again…. On Marc’s bedroom floor, my nails hardened into claws, digging into the carpet in lieu of enemy flesh.In my own basement, Luiz kicks me, snapping two of my ribs….
My spine lengthened beyond my tailbone, already swishing angrily before my tail had even fully formed.
On a forested hillside in Montana, Zeke Radley stabs my right hip, plunging white-hot agony all the way to the bone….
That echo of pain sang deep in my marrow, and my face began to elongate, a muzzle forming where there had been only chin and broken nose before.
And finally the pain swept everything else away in a blinding wash of agony that incinerated thought, obliterated memory.
I’d Shifted for the first time since becoming an Alpha.
My cat form felt different this time, in no way that could be explained simply by my new rank. I felt powerful, and lethal, and barely restrained. My new body was born of pain and rage, and had both to unleash.
But I had nowhere to put the power. Nothing to unleash it on, without hurting someone I loved. I had no way to expend that vicious power, except in more pain for myself. So I Shifted back, less than two minutes after I’d first stood on four paws.
The pain was worse that time instead of better, in spite of the small wounds I could feel healing. As if pain was this violent power’s purpose. My purpose…
I needed power, and I deserved pain, so I took them both. Again, and again.
I Shifted back into human form while bitter memories played behind my eyes like old filmstrips, jumpy and out of focus, and almost too fast to truly understand.
Andrew straddles me on the glass-strewn floor, punching me, over and over. Kevin Mitchell backhands me in a suburban living room, then the memory stutters and he jerks my arm hard enough to crack the bone. In the Montana woods, a big black cat pounces on me, his rear claws rip into my stomach.
I collapsed on Marc’s bedroom floor, covered in sweat, yet shivering. My pulse raced. My breathing was too fast and too shallow.
I rolled onto my hands and knees, and the room spun around me. I clutched the footboard, and when the earth stilled, I pulled myself up slowly and turned to the mirror, mentally cataloging my aches and pains. My bruised ribs had gone from black and purple to bluish-green, but the cracked one still screamed every time I moved. My shoulder no longer hurt, so I swung my left arm to test it. All good. Holding the edge of the dresser for balance, I dropped into a deep squat. My left hip felt limber, my motion smooth.
The bruises around my eyes had faded and yellowed, but they weren’t any smaller. The side of my head still looked lumpy, and it still throbbed without being touched. The swelling in my nose had decreased, but when I touched the bridge, it still hurt. Gritting my teeth, I pushed on my nose until my eyes watered from the pain, then I clutched the edge of the dresser and studied my reflection. Frowning. It wasn’t enough.
Again. I had to do it again.
I turned and dropped onto my knees. The carpet blurred with my tears while reality blurred with my pain. Again…
The old deer stand gives beneath me, and my arm is shredded from wrist to elbow.
Colin Dean pins me to the wall by my neck. My feet dangle. I can’t breathe. The memory stutters, and he’s cutting my face, threatening worse….
I stood in cat form again, stretching. The buzz of power still burned beneath my skin, and my side still hurt, but I felt like I could jump out a five-story window and land on all four feet. I was strong. Starving, and hurting, and exhausted, but so incredibly strong…
I closed my eyes and my whiskers twitched. Warm, metallic-scented air brushed my fur from the vent overhead. And I called to the memories again…
Ryan turns out the light and closes the door, leaving me alone with Abby. I’ve never been so scared….
The thunderbird swoops, snatching Kaci from the front yard. Her legs dangle above my hand. I can’t reach her. Terror and despair wash over me and I know I’ve lost her….
Human form again, and I could hardly move. My hair hung in my face, stringy with sweat. My arms shook. I pulled myself up using the edge of the dresser for support. I looked wild. The bruises were gone, but the flesh beneath my eyes was still dark. My cheekbones stood out sharply, and my face was pale. My head no longer looked puffy, but it was tender, and when I touched the bridge of my nose, my eyes still watered.
I dropped to the floor again. I needed to Shift, but I could hardly remember why. My tongue felt thick and dry when I swallowed, so I bit it until I tasted blood.