Series: Shifter Ops Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
And I’m me. A messed up shifter who can’t keep his animal calm. As awkward as I am tall. Scrawny and living in an old house with his two best friends, who are just as tormented as I am.
Who am I to even sit next to her? I can’t even look at her. She shines too bright.
But I can’t stop my body from responding to her. Need throbs through me. It’s the sweetest ache.
I grit my teeth and watch the sunset. We’re almost to the mountain summit when I make the mistake of looking down.
Two pairs of headlights are zig zagging up the road after us.
“C-c-company.” I grip Declan’s shoulder. He turns and sees what I see and starts cussing up a storm.
“Is it them?” Parker asks, his shoulders rigid, his eyes fixed on the road.
“Aye.”
Fiona cuddles her shotgun close. “What do we do?”
“Try to outrun them.” There’s a whirring whine as Parker presses on the gas pedal, followed by a loud clunk.
We all freeze.
The bus sputters and slows.
“Damn, damn, damn,” Parker joins in with Declan’s cussfest.
I give Allison an apologetic look. Not everybody is used to my buddy's creative use of the word “fecking.”
The bus rolls to a stop. We’re at the apex of the road, looking down.
“Hop out,” Parker says at the same time Declan says, “Right. Maybe we can push it down.”
We all pour out of the bus. With the oncoming night, the air has cooled. The wind whips at my hair, tears at Allison’s flowy skirt. It should smell fresh and clean, but instead it has a sour metal edge. Underneath, it smells like an old drain. The scent of fear and vampires.
Fiona’s stepped up on the bumper to get a view of our pursuers. “They’re coming on, and fast.”
“Come on.” Declan rushes to the back of the bus and throws himself against it.
“Wait,” Allison cries, pointing down the road in front of us. Two more pairs of headlights zoom up the mountain, headed straight to us. “We’re trapped.”
Now Fiona, Parker and Declan all cuss.
Allison wraps her arms around herself. She’s wearing a sweater and a coat, but the fabric of her skirt looks thin. I don’t think, I just curve my arm around her, stepping close to block the wind with my body.
“What do we do?” Allison asks.
And I’m helpless because with the enemy coming at us from both sides, there’s nothing I can do.
Scratch that. I could shift into my owl and wing to safety, carrying Allison and maybe Fiona along with me. But at the thought my owl burrows deep, beyond my reach.
Fiona’s enlisted Declan’s help boosting her up, so she can scramble onto a nearby boulder for a sniper’s perch. I’m not sure how she’s going to hold off vampires with a shotgun, but it’s better than sitting here waiting for death.
Parker stalks around the bus, clocking the enemies. “Laurie, can you–” he glances back, the light catching his eyes, so they flare opaque with glowing yellow. His animal is close to the surface.
But my owl is nowhere to be found. Parker’s thought of the same solution, and he’s asking me if I can shift and fly Allison out of there. I shake my head, gulping. There’s a boulder in my throat, making it hard to swallow. There’s a sensation of a burning band of silver closing around my neck, tightening. The collar I wore in the labs of Data X. Where they poked and prodded until my owl learned to hide.
“I c-c-c-” I try to say. I can’t. My owl has been braver but not lately. Not when I’m the only one who can save us. Save her.
“It’s okay,” Parker says. “Don’t force it.”
Allison huddles close. She tilts her face up to mine, but there’s no judgment in her gaze. My insides still twist. If I was better, braver, stronger, I could call on my owl, shift and do something. Instead, I’m shrinking in on myself. Allison’s in danger, and I’m less than worthless.
I’m sorry, I want to say, but I can’t even speak. And the moment passes.
There’s a distant thunk-thunk-thunk, and we all turn towards the setting sun.
“Is that–?” Allison shades her eyes.
“A helicopter,” Fiona confirms.
In the low light, the chopper glides over the land like an oversized dragonfly. It’s heading straight for us.
“Aww, shite,” Declan mutters. “Isnae enough they send their ground troops? They also send a bird?”
“Wait,” Parker says.
The closer the chopper gets, the clearer its outline becomes. And as wild as it is, it’s obvious–there’s someone hanging from the skids. Wearing….a short skirt?
The wind whips up further, dust and grit flying in a whirlwind caused by the helicopter’s whirling blades.
“Incoming,” Fiona shouts. It’s unclear whether she means the SUVs charging up the last switch back on the left or the right or the helicopter swooping overhead to reveal its cargo–two large figures in kilts, one in a snowy white pirate shirt and the other bare-chested.