Page 74 of Shifting Years
Any advantage I might have had was gone, but if Henry could hear, he'd come after me instead. I steadied my rifle, waiting to unload cartridges into an armored snake.Dammit, Mike. Why would you make me lose my line of sight?
Because he saw something so horrible, he didn't think.
My throat burned. I'd find a monster or a dying Omega, if not already eaten.
The silence felt wrong and the air smelled of blood and rot. I ran toward the cabins, heart pounding, rifle at the ready, but I knew I wouldn't have time to aim if Henry appeared. I darted between the two buildings and skidded to a stop.
A school-bus-long nightmare slithered from the shadows, its armored body gleaming in the dim light. It reared up, its circular mouth split open with rows of rotating, serrated teeth mashed together in a sound like ground metal. Curved mandibles or 'teeth' clicked down the metallic-blue sides. It had the vague feel of a torturous scream. I didn't speak 'monster', but the language was universal.
Now I'm the idiot.
We were too close. I'd only get one, maybe two shots. I lined up its bloated head in my sights, finger on the trigger. Then it rose. Floated. Off the ground.
Mike, you didn't tell me it could do that!
Two shots rang out, pinging off metal, then… click. My rifle jammed.What?I cleaned it myself.
From the shadows, two figures emerged. One, tall, redheaded, and statuesque, shimmered in a flowing beige gown that caught the moonlight like spun gold. The other, a petite brunette in denim shorts and a cropped red top, looked as if she had just stepped off a farm.
They didn't look like they belonged together, yet they moved in perfect sync, their gazes locked onto me.
I shouldn't have known their names, but I did.
"We," said the brunette.
"—are tired of your messes," finished the other.
***
Mike chopped red peppers and olives. "What we didn't know was the bayou witches were looking to—"
The restaurant's front door dinged, and it was Penny. Blonde hair had greyed over the years, but she was as pretty as ever. Common sense and decades of friendship told her who was who. She hurried over, hugging Mike as if he were a long-lost brother and then me.
"Mary sent me over for a muffuletta sandwich. No rush." She turned to Kim, staring at his red mohawk. "Right, another one. You must be Kim?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Your Alpha's looking for you." She described his faded-blue jeans, flannel top, and how he was a big guy.
"Sounds like Jack."
"So," said Penny. "Where are you in the story?" She shrugged to Kim as if to say it's a small town and there's no secrets.
"Nightback Ridge," I said.
She grimaced.
"But after the Charles Manson-like nastiness," said Mike.
"Before your daughter?"
We each nodded slowly.
"You made the right choice. You know that right?" She wiggled her fingers. "Once in a while, when I touch y'all, I sense it." Her voice softened. "You did what any loving parent would do."
Mike swallowed. "Still doesn't feel like it sometimes."
***
