Shift Happens(8)

It wasn’t really. There were a lot of possibilities and eighty years post Purge, we were all “out of the closet” so to speak. Most supe groups were relieved to be out of hiding after centuries of censorship. I wasn’t. A price existed for such exposure. I felt like my date had walked out of the restaurant and left me with a bill I couldn’t pay.

Wick shrugged. “We’re both supes. It’s a moot point.”

“A Shifter.” I squirmed, the urge for clothing palpable. But it would be a sign of weakness to admit being uncomfortable naked in his presence. Not wanting to give Wick any further control over me, I bit my tongue.

“With three forms? A cougar, a…”

“A mountain lion,” I interrupted.

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Sweetheart, from what I heard about your performance last night, you are worthy of both names.”

I gave him a flat stare and ignored the increase in my heart rate.

“My apologies.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “A mountain lion, some sort of bird…” He paused to give me the opportunity to enlighten him. I didn’t. He forged on, “And the most delectable gray wolf.”

If my wolf could purr, she would have. Good mate, she repeated.

I fidgeted under his gaze. The way he said delectable made it sound like I was some sort of chocolate sundae. My cat hacked, not impressed.

“How is that possible?” he asked.

I shrugged. The hell if I knew. He stared for a while, most likely trying to gauge whether I would say more on the subject or not. My skin itched to run. I’d rather have one of my canines pulled out by a dentist school drop-out than elaborate.

“Where are your feras?” He changed tactics.

“Now that is a rude question.”

Wick shrugged.

Feras were the animal familiars Shifters bonded to. Every Shifter I met bonded to one and only one. The bond allowed Shifters to take the same shape as their fera. These animals accompanied Shifters through life and communicated with their Shifter through the bond. They were magical and once bonded, lived as long as the Shifter. I always wondered how bear Shifters managed to stay concealed during the pre-Purge era. They must’ve lived in rural areas. A black bear couldn’t stroll around the city unnoticed.

Of course, if I’d grown up with the lore passed down from generation to generation, I’d know all about it, but all my information came from the internet. I’d been born during the first year of the Purge, when gun-toting norms took out an estimated ninety percent of Shifters by offing their feras. Those volatile years also claimed the life of my birth parents. Or so the adoption agency claimed. Working for the government gave me a different perspective of the truth.

I hadn’t walked into the forest to find one animal. I found three. But something went wrong during the bonding process. One touch and they evaporated, as if my soul sucked them into my body. I had no feras to walk with me through life and keep me company, save the voices in my head.

I wouldn’t answer Wick’s question. Couldn’t. Asking about a Shifter’s fera was a sensitive topic. The death of the animal meant the death of the Shifter. They were every Shifter’s strength and every Shifter’s vulnerability.

No one had ever witnessed my multiple forms and lived to tell the tale. Until now. The exposure of my secret made my heart sink in my chest. I couldn’t take out a whole pack of Werewolves and everyone they told. Social media was a bitch.

“Fine,” Wick said. “I’m sure we’ll spot them eventually. They’d be safer inside with us.”

I clamped my mouth shut, willing myself to remain silent. He didn’t need to know I had no physical feras.

Wick stood up and stretched. His shirt pulled up a little and revealed a taut six pack. I had the biggest urge to lick them.

Huh? I frowned. Not the appropriate response. I should be thinking about incapacitating him to escape.

He peered down at me. “It goes without saying that you will be guarded at all times.” He shut the window and locked it with a key. “All the windows in the house are Were-proof. You’ll injure yourself more if you try to break through them.”

I grunted and shut my eyes. Of course, imprisoned in a Were house. These buildings were pretty damn close to indestructible and near impossible to break out using strength—a must for house training new Weres. They could get pretty uncontrollable. Good thing I never counted on brute force to get me out of trouble.

“Is there anything I can get you?” he asked.

“Clothes,” I said without thinking.

A shadow passed over me. My eyes flew open. Wick leaned in and placed a hand on each side of my head. Bracing his weight, he bent closer. A smile tugged at his lips, now inches away from my own. His white teeth flashed. “Nervous?”