Shift
Page 107
He stiffened, and the child squealed when his arm tightened around her waist. “I’m not going to live at all.”
“She’s just a baby!” Kaci cried, and I glanced at her in surprise. “How can you kill her? No matter what else you’ve done, you don’t hurt babies. Only monsters kill kids.”
I squeezed her hand, as horrified as she was. What had happened to Parker’s little brother? Did Malone corrupt everyone he came into contact with? Or could Lance truly be scared out of his mind? Could mere fear turn an ordinary—if spineless—man into a monster?
Lance stepped through the open doorway and onto the ledge. Kaci and I followed, and she let go of my hand to press her back to the front wall, unwilling to go near the edge.
Four thunderbirds followed us out—including Brynn, Cade and Coyt—and dozens more peered through the doorway and the huge windows, their talons scratching against the floor.
I held my breath as Lance stepped toward the edge, and finally, a foot from the end of the porch, he turned and addressed the three male thunderbirds who’d come out with us. “Take me down. Take me down and swear to let me go, and I’ll give back the baby. I swear.”
That time the birds didn’t have to confer. It was Brynn who answered, reaching toward her child with now-human arms. “You will not leave our territory alive, and if you kill my daughter, you will watch us eat parts of your body for days. Your death will be so slow and painful you will beg for the end long before it comes.”
Lance gaped at her, eyes glazing over in shock, shoulders slumped beneath the weight of the inevitable. Then, before I could process the sudden, insane upturn of the corners of his mouth, he stepped backward and off the porch, still holding the child.
Thirty-Two
“No!” Brynn launched herself off the porch, sprouting wings in midair. An instant later, a violent gust blew my hair into my face and feathered flesh hit my arm so hard I was pushed forward two steps. Cade—or maybe Coyt—dove off the edge of the porch.
I grabbed the porch support post and looked down. Cade—in his mad nosedive—overtook the flapping Brynn quickly. He was bearing down on Lance and Wren before I’d blinked twice. Talons extended, he grabbed Lance by both shoulders and threw out his wings to slow their descent.
But he was too late, and Lance was too heavy.
Cade was thrown off balance by the sudden weight he carried and veered to the left, struggling to rise with his burden. Then he overcorrected and careened madly toward the tree line. Another sudden twist kept Cade and his cargo from smashing into the trees, but halted his awkward upward progress. Mere feet from the ground, he managed one last powerful beat of his wings, and he and his cargo bobbed upward. Then, when they started to fall, he rolled them all to the side, using one massive wing to shield Lance—thus Wren—from the ground as it rushed up to meet them.
The trio landed hard, and even from two hundred feet above, I heard the muted crash-thud of the impact, and Cade’s awful screech of agony. He was hurt—badly—but thanks to his sacrifice, his unwitting passengers were fine.
Lance stood and shoved the bird’s body over, earning another terrible squawk from Cade. Then, as Brynn thumped to a landing thirty feet away, Lance stepped over the huge, broken wing and took off for the woods, Wren still in hand and screaming her half-human head off.
Shit! The forest was our home turf, and my guess was that since thunderbirds couldn’t fly in such confined quarters, they spent very little time in the woods, even in human form. Brynn would never catch Lance, and neither would any of the half-dozen other birds who rushed past me and off the edge of the porch.
Below, Marc and Jace alternately stared up at us and watched the procession of birds dropping from the overhead dwelling, but I couldn’t see their expressions in the fading light from such a distance. However, neither seemed eager to take off into the woods with the first few birds who Shifted, then ran naked into the forest. Not that I could blame my guys. They had no idea what had happened.
“Hey!” I grabbed the wing of the nearest bird before he could leap from the porch and almost got my hand bitten off when he whirled and snapped at me. Then he dove off the porch, soaring toward the tree line on huge, spread wings.
Frantic, I turned, still clinging to the post, and spied Kaci pressed against the front of the building, her eyes wide in terror as bird after bird rushed by her. At her side stood a familiar male bird, naked and almost fully human in form. “Coyt!” I had to shout to be heard over the thunderous beat of wings, but the bird looked up. I had no idea why he hadn’t already joined the procession, and there was no time to ask. “Take me down. Please!”
He shook his head, and I realized he was guarding us. And suddenly it occurred to me that we might not be allowed to leave if Lance wasn’t caught. Somehow I was sure that having my evidence abscond with a baby thunderbird would not fulfill my part of the bargain.
I shoved my way through the birds still waiting to take to the air and laid one hand on Kaci’s shoulder to comfort her, while I stared up at Coyt. “Take me down. You guys will never find Lance in the woods, but I can. I can get Wren back.”
Coyt hesitated, glancing around as if looking for a consensus before making a decision on his own. But there were fewer than a dozen adult birds left on the porch—and even fewer still inside—and none of them paid us any mind.
I rolled my eyes and grabbed his arm to seize his attention. “You want her back? Take me down.”
“She’s just a baby!” Kaci cried, and I glanced at her in surprise. “How can you kill her? No matter what else you’ve done, you don’t hurt babies. Only monsters kill kids.”
I squeezed her hand, as horrified as she was. What had happened to Parker’s little brother? Did Malone corrupt everyone he came into contact with? Or could Lance truly be scared out of his mind? Could mere fear turn an ordinary—if spineless—man into a monster?
Lance stepped through the open doorway and onto the ledge. Kaci and I followed, and she let go of my hand to press her back to the front wall, unwilling to go near the edge.
Four thunderbirds followed us out—including Brynn, Cade and Coyt—and dozens more peered through the doorway and the huge windows, their talons scratching against the floor.
I held my breath as Lance stepped toward the edge, and finally, a foot from the end of the porch, he turned and addressed the three male thunderbirds who’d come out with us. “Take me down. Take me down and swear to let me go, and I’ll give back the baby. I swear.”
That time the birds didn’t have to confer. It was Brynn who answered, reaching toward her child with now-human arms. “You will not leave our territory alive, and if you kill my daughter, you will watch us eat parts of your body for days. Your death will be so slow and painful you will beg for the end long before it comes.”
Lance gaped at her, eyes glazing over in shock, shoulders slumped beneath the weight of the inevitable. Then, before I could process the sudden, insane upturn of the corners of his mouth, he stepped backward and off the porch, still holding the child.
Thirty-Two
“No!” Brynn launched herself off the porch, sprouting wings in midair. An instant later, a violent gust blew my hair into my face and feathered flesh hit my arm so hard I was pushed forward two steps. Cade—or maybe Coyt—dove off the edge of the porch.
I grabbed the porch support post and looked down. Cade—in his mad nosedive—overtook the flapping Brynn quickly. He was bearing down on Lance and Wren before I’d blinked twice. Talons extended, he grabbed Lance by both shoulders and threw out his wings to slow their descent.
But he was too late, and Lance was too heavy.
Cade was thrown off balance by the sudden weight he carried and veered to the left, struggling to rise with his burden. Then he overcorrected and careened madly toward the tree line. Another sudden twist kept Cade and his cargo from smashing into the trees, but halted his awkward upward progress. Mere feet from the ground, he managed one last powerful beat of his wings, and he and his cargo bobbed upward. Then, when they started to fall, he rolled them all to the side, using one massive wing to shield Lance—thus Wren—from the ground as it rushed up to meet them.
The trio landed hard, and even from two hundred feet above, I heard the muted crash-thud of the impact, and Cade’s awful screech of agony. He was hurt—badly—but thanks to his sacrifice, his unwitting passengers were fine.
Lance stood and shoved the bird’s body over, earning another terrible squawk from Cade. Then, as Brynn thumped to a landing thirty feet away, Lance stepped over the huge, broken wing and took off for the woods, Wren still in hand and screaming her half-human head off.
Shit! The forest was our home turf, and my guess was that since thunderbirds couldn’t fly in such confined quarters, they spent very little time in the woods, even in human form. Brynn would never catch Lance, and neither would any of the half-dozen other birds who rushed past me and off the edge of the porch.
Below, Marc and Jace alternately stared up at us and watched the procession of birds dropping from the overhead dwelling, but I couldn’t see their expressions in the fading light from such a distance. However, neither seemed eager to take off into the woods with the first few birds who Shifted, then ran naked into the forest. Not that I could blame my guys. They had no idea what had happened.
“Hey!” I grabbed the wing of the nearest bird before he could leap from the porch and almost got my hand bitten off when he whirled and snapped at me. Then he dove off the porch, soaring toward the tree line on huge, spread wings.
Frantic, I turned, still clinging to the post, and spied Kaci pressed against the front of the building, her eyes wide in terror as bird after bird rushed by her. At her side stood a familiar male bird, naked and almost fully human in form. “Coyt!” I had to shout to be heard over the thunderous beat of wings, but the bird looked up. I had no idea why he hadn’t already joined the procession, and there was no time to ask. “Take me down. Please!”
He shook his head, and I realized he was guarding us. And suddenly it occurred to me that we might not be allowed to leave if Lance wasn’t caught. Somehow I was sure that having my evidence abscond with a baby thunderbird would not fulfill my part of the bargain.
I shoved my way through the birds still waiting to take to the air and laid one hand on Kaci’s shoulder to comfort her, while I stared up at Coyt. “Take me down. You guys will never find Lance in the woods, but I can. I can get Wren back.”
Coyt hesitated, glancing around as if looking for a consensus before making a decision on his own. But there were fewer than a dozen adult birds left on the porch—and even fewer still inside—and none of them paid us any mind.
I rolled my eyes and grabbed his arm to seize his attention. “You want her back? Take me down.”
