Page 1 of Shifter's Homecoming

1 - Get Your Ass Home

On a dark Wisconsin trail, during a cool summer night, a few days after the beast mauled Harlan and fled Serenity.

Trent Burbank stalked through the darkened forest as a wolf, nose canted down, tail held close to his body, following the beast’s scent trail.

The summer night was hot and humid, which magnified all of Trent’s senses. The beast was close and his temperament was bad. Confusion and rage pulsed from the scent trail in waves. Trent slunk lower to the ground, ears back, teeth bared, ready for anything. He had been following the beast for a few days, and not yet seen him, but his primal stench lingered in a thick cloud along this particular path, making Trent expect to pull up on him any minute now.

Off to Trent’s left, Smokey the housecat paced Trent, slinking silently through the forest, using saplings and wildflowers and darkness for cover. Trent did not worry about him. The cat had proved to be wily, quick, and as tough as any wolf Trent had ever known. Trent was glad for his presence, even though he knew what it meant.

Around them, the forest had long before fallen silent. No animal wanted to draw the attention of the beast, especially not the tasty ones.

The beast was also Jaggar, Trent’s friend and co-worker, and Jaggar was also the beast, but no one knew if Jaggar had any control of the grotesque half-catamount, half-wolf body they shared. Jaggar hadn’t seemed to have any control a few days ago, when he’d shifted into the beast for the first time ever and mauled Harlan, Jaggar’s best friend in the world, for kissing Jaggar’s mate. The beast had jumped out a window, never learning the only thing in the world that could maybe-possibly make that ok to a wolf. Supposedly, Harlan’s long-dead mate had been inside Jaggar’s mate’s body, while Jaggar’s mate had actually been in Rhen’s meadow—. Trent shook his head once, twice, hard, making his ears fly, dislodging the thoughts. He had no time to think about the circus that being awolfenin the Serenity Police Department had turned into. He had a mission.

He’s close,Trent told Smokey inruhi, a sort of telepathy most of his kind could speak.

Smokey did not answer. Smokey had never answered him or given any indication he spokeruhi,or was more than just an ordinary housecat, but Trent attempted to speak to him often, just the same.

Trent had sent himself off on this mission to track down the beast and send him home, with the blessing of his boss and his boss’s boss, but nobody had sent Smokey.

Trent glanced at the dark, star-speckled sky, thinkingsomebodyhad.

Sent from above or not, SmokeyechoedTrent, andechoes,common animals that mirrored ashiften’scoloring and markings, were never good news. No one, not even thedragenquite knew what they were for, but thedragenhad some guesses, and most of them ended up with Trent dying but maybe having a chance to come back to life… somehow.

Smokey had come into Trent’s life almost a year ago, brought by his brother Trevor’s new mate, Ella. Trent had loved Ella like a sister since the moment he’d met her, and he’d been determined to get along with her cats, even once he figured out that one of them meant his death. Ella still didn’t know the existence of Smokey meant that Trent was about to die. No one knew, except Trent and two others… and the cat himself.

Bring it on,Trent silently told the sky, or whatever up there might be listening.I’m ready to die, I’m ready for whatever sacrifice you’ve got lined up for me. You know I’ll take it on, no matter what it is, so let’s do this already.

He’d been waiting to die for months. It wore on a wolf.

When this mission to follow the beast had come up, Trent had jumped at the chance and he had not minded going alone. It had seemed right. When Smokey had shown up on the trail behind him, Trent knew immediately that this was it. Sometime on this trip, he would die.

Trent growled softly in his throat, the rough idle intended to calm himself from the inside out. He could not spend much time thinking about the fuckery of angels and goddesses or it would piss him off. He needed his focus. Wade, one of the big bosses of the police department Trent worked for, believed if they lost even one member of their team, or lost even oneOne True Mate, the coming war with the demon would end swiftly… and badly.

Trent hoped he had a chance to send the beast home before his death found him. He was not worried it was the beast who would kill him. The beast was strong and mean and big, but he was also confused, inexperienced, and directionless, rather like a bull in a china shop. If he tried to fight, Trent would have him for breakfast.

The scent of the beast intensified, giving Trent pause. Ahead, leaves rustled, then a low growl sounded. Trent slowed his pace, stepping neatly around a slight curve in the trail. The beast came into view, still moving, but barely, appearing to be locked in some personal struggle.

The forest was dark, but Trent’s night vision was excellent. The beast’s feet were dragging, his head was down. He stuttered, then stopped on the trail, turning enough that Trent could see his left side from nose to flank.

Trent took his first good long look at the animal. The beast was big and lumpy, but deadly looking, even in shadow. He was massive, as big as any bear, his fur a multi-colored amalgamation of browns. His eyes seemed small and mostly closed. His tail was crooked and cropped. His ears were undersized, his teeth over-sized, and his claws? Each was a nine-inch killer, caked with dirt.

The beast snorted, dropping his misshapen head to the ground, snuffling dirt into his dark nostrils. Trent stared and tensed, ready for anything. The beast seemed to fight with himself, and Trent could almost see Jaggar inside, forcing the muscles to move against the will of the body. The beast raised a paw in front of his face. His eyes opened and rolled, then squeezed shut again. A tortured noise like a chainsaw grinding through metal escaped his throat.

Trent stepped backwards lightly, melting into the underbrush, lip curled, teeth bared, belly on the ground, tiny saplings wisping him from below. He studied the beast, watching for an advantage, feeling Smokey’s presence just behind him. Smokey had stopped and he was also waiting, watching.

The beast stepped off the trail. He rammed his head into a tree. He snorted lightly and pawed at the ground.

Jaggar?Trent called with his mind. There was no answer.

Beast?Trent called. The beast continued to contort and twist on the trail, at obvious war with himself. He gave no indication of hearing.

Trent stayed in the shadows. He reached out for his brother Troy withruhi. Troy had recently shifted to a man for the first time ever, so he was always distracted, but he was still the only male back in Serenity likely to hear Trent from this far away. Even Trevor, his other brother, would not be able to hear him because they were not as emotionally close as Trent and Troy were.

I’ve found him but he won’t answer. I’m about to make contact.

Troy’s response came quick, soft, and unexpected.

Claws out, Nipper.

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