Author: Cheree Alsop
Date: 2012-12-12 05:00:00+00:00

STOLEN

By Cheree L. Alsop

Copyright © 2012 by Cheree L. Alsop
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination.  Any resemblance to actual persons, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

ISBN

Cover Design by Andy Hair
www.ChereeAlsop.com

To my husband, Michael Alsop,

Whose belief in my dreams

Made my books a reality.

To my children for their patience,
laughter, and love.

I love you!

Chapter 1- Kyla

I walked slowly through the cages to check on the dogs and cats. The lights were low and my sneakers squeaked noisily on the tile floor. The clinic was strangely quiet. Though most of the animals were still awake, they sat silently in their cages, eyes wide and shifting as if they waited for something.

I paused at the kennel of a poodle that had undergone a cesarean. The mother lay curled around her sleeping puppies, her eyes large amid her curly white hair. I opened the door and petted the dog’s head reassuringly. “It’s okay now, Sugar. Your puppies are beautiful and healthy.” The dog licked my hand and I smiled. I shut the cage and continued my rounds, making sure the occupants were resting and water bowls full.

I paused by the door to the supply room to tuck an errant strand of hair into my braid when I noticed that the door knob was discolored and the door open slightly despite the fact that I had closed it at the beginning of my rounds.

I touched the door cautiously and my heart started to pound. I had worked as my father’s assistant at the veterinary clinic long enough to recognize the color of blood on metal. The door swung inward and light from the outside room illuminated a rectangle on the floor. I reached up slowly to flip on the light switch.

“Don’t.” The whisper was quiet.

I froze, my hand just below the switch. I thought of the small knife I always carried in my pocket to assist with opening packages, dog food, and the other random chores I carried out after school. I wondered if reaching for the knife would be too obvious. The light coming into the small room put the front of me in shadow, so I slid my right hand down slowly, my left still frozen by the light switch.

“Don’t move.” The whisper was stronger this time.

My heart began to race. “Who are you?” I asked. I tried to keep my voice from shaking and almost succeeded. “What do you want?”

The voice fell silent for a moment, but I could hear him breathe; each outlet of air was forced, as if through clenched teeth. When he spoke again, his words were softer with a hint of gentleness as if he knew I was afraid. “Bandages and thread, if you have it. I couldn’t find them.”

I willed my heart to slow. I thought about the location of the wound supplies in proximity to the speaker’s voice. Though I had been the one to store the supplies and could have found them blindfolded, there was no way I was about to step into the storage room in the dark.

“I have to turn on the light to find them,” I lied. He didn’t answer. His breathing sounded loud in the tiny room. “Or I could get my father,” I continued, trying to keep my tone positive. “He would take care of you.” I hoped that came across as a good thing rather than the impending doom I knew the speaker would meet if my father found out someone was hiding in the clinic and scaring his daughter.

“No, no one.” He fell quiet for a moment. I couldn’t hear him breathe and wondered if he was holding his breath. He let it out slowly, confirming my guess. “Go ahead and turn on the light.”

I slipped the pocketknife out of my jeans as I flipped the switch. Neon hummed above. I turned back slowly, afraid of what I would find.

He was crouched in the corner between the wall and a stack of boxes that held sterile water in IV bags. I judged him to be roughly my age of eighteen. He wore a black hoodie with the hood pulled up over disheveled black hair. His pants were faded, and he wore sneakers that were torn and dark with use.

I sensed something wild about him, like the feral dogs and cats the catcher brought in. I met his eyes and froze for a moment. At first, they shone gold as if reflecting the light that now filled the room, then they darkened to blue, dark and stormy like the ocean. He looked caged, wild. The expression in his eyes was guarded, calculating, as if he was planning his escape route.

I felt like I should say something. “I’m not going to hurt you.” It sounded like false reassurance with the lingering hint of fear in my voice. I felt stupid for saying it, but he nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving my face. I then noticed that he held one hand tight against his right side; blood dripped slowly between his fingers to the white tiled floor. His face was drawn and pale, a sharp contrast to his dark hair and shirt.

“I should get help,” I said, more alarmed now at his condition than his presence. I put a hand on the door.

“No!” There was fear in his voice this time. I turned back and found that he had risen halfway to his feet, his free hand holding the boxes for support. His blue eyes were wide, pleading, his face pale with the pain. He shook his head and dropped his eyes under my gaze. “No, please. No help.”

I nodded, worried that he was using strength he couldn’t spare. “Okay, no help.”

“Thank you.” He let himself slide slowly back down the wall to his crouched position. Blood from his side left a streak along the white paint. I stared at him, my mind racing. He looked back at me and a slight, pained smile touched his lips. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” I started. “Um, yes. Sorry.” I quickly made my way around the tiny room, gathering supplies. I kept the knife in my hand more for reassurance than protection. With the shape he was in, I figured he was more danger to himself than me.

I approached him with an armful of bandages, clean rags, ointment, rubbing alcohol swabs, two curved needles, thread, gloves, and a sterile pad to set everything on. I took a steeling breath, slipped the knife back into my pocket, and knelt down next to the box of IV’s. The young man hesitated before lowering himself to a sitting position. His eyes never left my face. He seemed calmer now, as if the knowledge that someone was trying to help eased his pain.

“Are you. . . are you from around here?” I asked. I avoided his gaze, unsure I would be able to do what he seemed to be asking.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he carefully pulled the hoodie off his left arm, over his head, and then eased his right arm out. The torso revealed underneath was toned like an athlete with small scars along his skin. I fought back the urge to look away; it wasn’t every day I saw a half-naked boy late at night in the clinic. The cloth stuck to his side and he gasped as it pulled at the wound.

“Wait,” I commanded. I ran to the next room and filled a small bowl with clean, warm water, then grabbed a large syringe my father kept next to the sink for just that purpose. I hurried back into the storage room where he held the shirt to his side to help staunch the flow of blood.

I knelt down carefully to keep the water from spilling and filled the needleless syringe with the warm water. I used it soaked the edge of the cloth that stuck to the wound before easing the shirt, thick with drying blood, as gently as possible from his side. He didn’t make a sound; a glance showed that his jaw was clenched and his eyes were focused on the far wall.

After what felt like hours but was probably only a minute or two, the shirt came off and blood flowed freely onto the tiled floor. I examined the wound quickly. It was a long, clean cut from his right side to almost the middle of his stomach. It wasn’t deep enough to reach organs, but he had lost a lot of blood and it continued to flow. If I called Dad or an ambulance and he left and tried to make it on his own, he would probably die in an alley somewhere from blood loss.

I took a calming breath. “If you lay on your side, I’ll be able to stitch it better.” At his nod, I rose and grabbed a clean blanket from the shelf to spread across the floor. He positioned himself on it slowly, avoiding both my gaze and looking at the wound as if trying to maintain some control of the situation.

I pulled on the gloves, then attempted to thread the needle. It took several tries; my hands shook enough to give away my nervousness no matter how I tried to concentrate. I had assisted my father many times when he stitched similar wounds, but I had never been the one to do the stitching. I clenched my jaw and cleansed the wound with rubbing alcohol the best that I could; the swabs were quickly soaked with blood.

I could hear him struggle to stay silent as the alcohol touched the raw edges. My heart thumped sideways in my chest and I pulled back my hand. “Let me get my father. He could at least use a topical to make it hurt less.”

I started to rise, but he grabbed my hand, turning so that he lay on his back. I met his eyes and shook my head. “I can’t do this. I’ve never stitched anything up before. I just assist my father with the bandaging and all that.” A tear escaped down my cheek. I brushed it away with my free hand, averting my eyes from his steady gaze.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“What?” I looked back down, surprised.

“What’s your name? I’m Marek.” He gave the hand he still held a little shake.

“Kyla,” I replied, trying to see how that applied to the fact that he was bleeding to death and I couldn’t do anything about it.

“Kyla,” he repeated, studying me. “I like that name.”

“But-”

He cut my protest short with a shake of his head. His wavy black hair, damp with sweat, fell in his eyes. He let go of my hand to push it back. “Kyla, we only have two options here. Either I leave and hope I can get through this on my own, or you try your best to stitch me up and I can go back to where I’m needed.” He picked up the threaded needle and studied it, his teeth bared slightly in distaste. “Now, as much as this is going to hurt, it’ll be nothing compared to what will happen if I’m caught and I can’t run.” He looked back at me, the needle on his palm. His hand shook slightly. “I don’t want to die. You can help me.”

I knelt back down despite the voice in my head that screamed for me to call the police. I tried to be rational, remembering the fear in his voice when I offered to get help. He would undoubtedly leave if I tried to call someone. I opened my hand slowly. As he placed the needle on it, I heard his slow outrush of breath and realized he had been holding it while I made my decision. I glanced at him.

Marek dropped his gaze. “Sorry; you’re my only hope here.”

I nodded and took a deep breath to clear my mind. I let it out slowly. “I can do this,” I whispered.

Marek tipped my chin up gently. I met his eyes. “It’s okay. You can do this,” he echoed quietly. My heart slowed and I nodded.

Marek turned onto his side and stared past me at the rows of supplies packed neatly on the shelves. I glanced at his hands. They were clenched, the knuckles white amid the red stain of his blood. I turned my attention to the task at hand, willing myself to be calm and my fingers steady.

I made the first prick and tried in vain to block out Marek’s gasp as I eased the two edges of skin together. I was grateful that the cut was smooth and straight, and kept my stitches small and evenly spaced after my father’s example. The minutes dragged by with only the harsh sound of Marek’s breathing and the hum of the neon lights coloring the air. The flesh slowly closed back together in a straight red line that continued to drip when I was done.

My head pounded from the tension. My gloves were stained as red as Marek’s hands, and with the same blood. My fingers shook from the strain of holding the tiny needle and easing it through injured flesh. I swabbed the freshly sewn wound with alcohol, aware that Marek didn’t make a sound. I avoided looking up as I bandaged the wound. It wasn’t until I finished taping the main bandage down and needed him to sit up so I could wrap the long strips around his waist to hold pressure on the wound that I finally looked up at his face.

Marek’s eyes were unfocused, his breathing harsh. His black hair was a tangled mess that shone with sweat and hung over his eyes. He held his right hand next to his mouth in a loose fist. It bled along the knuckles as if he had bitten it to keep from crying out with the pain.

I stared at the hand. It looked as though it had been bitten by a dog, not a human. Long gashes that would have been fang marks scored the flesh deeply, framing the smaller teeth marks. I shook my head, convinced that I was seeing things.

“Marek,” I whispered. He didn’t acknowledge my voice. His eyes, the same gold cast I had noticed earlier, stared past me. I wondered if the pain had been too much, if I should have gotten my father despite his protests. “Marek,” I repeated louder. “Marek, it’s over.” I grabbed a left-over rag and dipped it in the remaining clean water. I ran the cloth over his forehead, smoothing his hair back.

Marek started to shake as the cool water touched his skin. I stared as his eyes turned from gold back to blue. I closed my own eyes and rubbed my forehead with the back of my arm, certain now that I was seeing things.

“Is it over?” His voice was soft and expressionless.

I jumped anyway and stared down at him. “Yes, it’s over.” I rushed on, worried at how pale his face had become, “I’ve got it pretty much bandaged, except I need you to sit up so I can finish wrapping it.”

Marek closed and opened his eyes again slowly. He reached up to rub his knuckles across them, then stared at his damaged hand. I could see his thoughts racing, but couldn’t read them. He lowered his hand and used it to ease himself into a more upright position.

I helped him up, aware of how clammy his skin had become in the tiny, air conditioned room. I helped him turn so he could sit with his back propped against the cardboard boxes, but he winced.

“It might be better if I stand,” he said quietly. “It pulls at the stitches to sit like this.”

I helped him slowly to his feet. By the time he was standing, his face and chest shone with sweat. He held his side tightly with his left hand in an effort to ease the pain, and he leaned on me and the boxes for support with his head low. I wrapped the bandages quickly and tucked the ends of the cloth underneath so it wouldn’t catch on anything.

Marek gave me a slight, pained smile. “You’ve done this before.”

I nodded. “Bandaging, yes; but you’re the first person I’ve ever stitched.”

“Well,” he grimaced slightly and shifted so that he could lean against the boxes. “Glad to have been your first.”

I smiled and felt the tension ease from my shoulders. I bent and began gathering up the supplies to throw away or clean. I felt his eyes on me as I rushed around the room, aware that my parents would start worrying if I didn’t return home soon. Luckily, I often stayed late to reassure the sick and wounded animals, making sure they were as comfortable as possible. Dad probably thought I was tending to Sugar’s puppies.

I finished scrubbing the wall, doorknob, and floor with disinfectant and water, tossed the bloodied cloths and rags into the hazardous bin, then glanced back at Marek. He stood with his eyes closed and head bowed as he leaned against the boxes. Blood glistened from the gash on his hand.

“I should take care of that, too,” I said softly.

Marek opened his eyes in surprise. He glanced around quickly as if to remind himself where he was, then looked back at me with questioning politeness.

I pointed at his hand and followed his gaze back to it. When he looked up again, his eyes were dark and unreadable. He didn’t protest when I took his hand and cleaned it carefully. I applied the clear ointment Dad used on most wounds, then wrapped it securely.

His fingers were hot compared to my own, and his muscles were tense as though he was unsure of my touch. I lowered his hand gently and turned away to give him some space. I put the ointment and extra bandages back where they belonged, then glanced around one more time to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. I was stalling, but didn’t know what to say.

“Is there somewhere safe I could sleep, just for a little bit?”

There was a touch of despair in his voice. He couldn’t stay here, and we both knew he wouldn’t make it far in his condition. My mind raced as I thought of, then discarded, a thousand different possibilities. I finally stuck on the tree house in our backyard. It was small, but hidden from the house by the surrounding trees. My brother had grown too big for it, and it currently housed only squirrels and spiders.

It would have to do for the night. We couldn’t trust anyone, and he had mentioned that someone or something was searching for him. It was probably the same person that had left him wounded and bleeding in an unforgiving city. I nodded. “Yeah, I know somewhere safe. It’s not the best, though.”

“Anything,” Marek agreed. “It’ll be fine.”

Chapter 2- Marek

I watched her carefully, wondering if it was foolish to trust her. She seemed innocent and sweet, but definitely wasn’t prepared to deal with the danger that followed me. Her little pocket knife would be no help against those on my trail.

My knees threatened to buckle when I stood up from the wall. I swayed slightly, but caught myself with a hand against the boxes before Kyla saw. I gritted my teeth and followed slowly. She kept looking back to make sure I was alright. The concern on her face made my heart thump strangely, but I knew better than to relax my guard, especially when I was hurt.

Even though I protested, Kyla slipped my arm over her shoulder and helped me out the door from the clinic. I blinked, willing my eyes to focus, though it took longer than usual. The darkness of midnight pressed down around us. I felt like they were everywhere, waiting and watching for me to slip up so they could catch me weak and unable to defend myself. I second-guessed my decision to involve Kyla in any of it, but I had to lean on her more than I liked just to put one foot in front of the other. I couldn’t remember feeling more exhausted and cold. Maybe I could trust her just for one night. I really didn’t have much of a choice if I was going to make it back.

Chapter 3- Kyla

“You need medication in case of an infection.” I helped Marek toward the little white Neon that sat solitary in the empty parking lot. The streetlight under which I always parked made a lonely circle on the black asphalt. Moths fluttered in vain around the white orb, dashing themselves into the glass and then falling to the ground only to fly back up for another futile attempt to reach the light. I tried not to ask myself why I was helping a wounded stranger into my car, and why I had stitched him up in the first place instead of calling the cops.

He shivered slightly as the chill of the night air touched his bare chest and back. “What does your dad give the dogs when they get hurt?” he asked, leaning against the car while I fumbled for the keys. I thought he was joking, but when I glanced at him after unlocking the doors, I saw he was serious. “It’s pretty much the same thing humans take, anyway,” he responded. “It’s all the same to me.” I swore I saw the beginnings of a smile tug at his lips. At my puzzled gaze, he turned away and studied the few stars that made it through the polluted city air.

I thought of the medicine cabinet in the back room and the key my father had given me in case of an emergency. Was it the same medicine humans took? I wasn’t sure, but he needed something. I reasoned it would be better than nothing, probably. I hurried back to the clinic with the excuse of making sure all the doors were locked. When I slid into the driver’s seat, I handed Marek the small supply of pills. I also gave him a blanket from the clinic he could use until I managed to clean the blood from his shirt.

At his grateful look, I turned away and started the car to hide my embarrassment. “I grabbed what my dad usually gives a big dog after surgery.” He gave a short laugh, then held his side. I frowned. “I could only take a couple or else my father would think one of his employees was either a junkie, or hawking them on the streets.” I shrugged and turned the car onto Main Street. “At least they’ll take the edge off the pain and hopefully keep you from getting an infection. Only use them if it gets too bad.”

He nodded and glanced out the window at the dark streets walled by apartment buildings and skyscrapers, then quickly turned his attention to the inside of the car. I studied him out of the corner of my eye and wondered if he was afraid to see the shadow of wings on the dark buildings. It was almost curfew. I should have been home a half hour ago.

A shiver ran down my spine at the thought of the Falconans that monitored the city streets. Half the city lived in fear of their cold, merciless ways, while the other half argued that they were safer with the protection of the winged men, something they pointed out even louder if one of the Falconans were around. But I had never been able to trust the way they looked at people as though willing them to make a mistake so they could be taken away.

The Falconans were taller than regular humans, with thick muscles, huge wings, and clawed boots that some swore hid real clawed feet. It was difficult to tell a male Falconan from a female due to similar bulk of size and lack of what I considered to be any inkling of maternal instinct. Either gender would just as readily carry away children abusing the curfew or creating trouble in the city.

They wore armor and carried enough weapons to stock a regular militia, a point which made most parents uneasy when the government introduced the idea of bringing them in as city security in addition to their posts in the military. They were still kept from the schools for now, but the way things looked, lock down after the war was getting more and more intense.

“This is a nice car,” Marek said tiredly after a moment, breaking through my thoughts. “Is it yours?”

I shook my head. “It’s my mom’s, but she lets me borrow it on school days. She prefers to drop Dad off at work because it gives them more time together. I like it because I can drive straight to the clinic after school instead of waiting around for the bus. Senior classes tend to get out earlier than the others. I guess because we’re all supposedly making plans for college or something.” I stopped, aware that I was babbling. I glanced at Marek self-consciously.

He didn’t seem to have noticed. His head rested back on the headrest and his brows were creased as if he concentrated on something. “Must be nice.”

I tried to remember what I said. Finally, at a loss, I asked, “What must be nice?”

Marek opened his mouth to reply, and then closed it again. A glance showed the same guarded expression in his eyes I was getting used to. He finally shrugged. “A mom and dad, that’s all.”

Caught off guard, I almost laughed, then caught myself. I realized he hadn’t mentioned parents or called them when he was hurt, afraid, and alone. I thought of my own family. They had their rough spots and the family problems that all people living in such close proximity experienced, but in the end, I didn’t know what I would do without them.

I glanced at Marek again. He had his eyes closed, his hand holding his right side against the bumps and potholes that seemed so numerous now that I was actively trying to avoid them. His face showed pale in the light of the lamps we passed. I eased the car to a stop at a stoplight, noting how the light made dark shadows under his eyes.

I chided myself for not fearing him, and for going so far as to offer him a place to stay for the night. But my heart turned over at the thought of leaving him to fend for himself. I never could leave a wounded creature alone. It was something my father praised me for, saying with a wink that I had inherited it from him, and something my mother shook her head over with a motherly sigh. I wondered what they would think now.

“Thank you,” Marek said quietly, his eyes still closed. He sounded so weary, as if tired of life itself.

“It’s nothing. Anyone would have done it.”

Marek shook his head slowly against the headrest. “No, they wouldn’t have. I know from personal experience.” He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at me. “But you did. You helped even though I scared you. And I’ve brought you more trouble by asking for a place to sleep.” He paused a minute, then closed his eyes again and continued, his voice slower. “I just don’t think I’d get very far like this. Too much is counting on me. I can’t let them down.” His voice trailed away.

Though I dearly wanted to, I didn’t ask who was waiting for him, or what was counting on him. His breathing grew steady as he slept through the dark streets; I found myself watching the walls for shadowed wings.

Chapter 4- Marek

We crossed Kyla’s yard under the protection of a moonless night. A twig cracked nearby. My senses strained and my muscles tensed. I wanted to bolt, to run into the trees and leave everything behind, but I wouldn’t get far in my condition. The crickets and the rush of the wind sounded ominous when usually they were my favorite sounds. I could smell the presence of rabbits amid the tall grass, birds asleep in the trees, and a mouse hiding at the call of an owl in an ancient oak. Numb from exhaustion and pain, I followed Kyla wearily through a forest starkly out of place in the city.

My legs felt like they were coated in lead. I leaned against a tree for a moment. The bark bit into my shoulder and I welcomed its earthy green wood scent. Kyla glanced back and I straightened. I gritted my teeth and forced one foot in front of the other until we reached a roughly hewn wooden ladder. A shiver ran down my spine. I pulled the blanket closer around my shoulders to keep out the gentle night breeze. Concern touched Kyla’s kind green eyes; I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile before I climbed one slow step at a time to the top.

I stepped into the dark, dusky confines of a tree house that looked like it had once been well used, but now sat dormant with only the scents of squirrel remaining. I walked through the darkness to a bed made of stout logs and planking. The old blanket that covered it was dusty and had been home to a few mice, but the bed looked like the most comfortable thing in the world at that moment. I sat on the edge and a sigh of relief escaped before I could stop it.

“Are you alright?” Kyla asked. She squinted in the darkness, trying to make out my form amid the shadows.

“This is perfect. Thank you,” I replied quietly. I didn’t know how to express how much I appreciated what she had done. I hoped I could find a way to repay her. “I’ll sleep for a few hours, then leave. You don’t have to worry about me.”

She walked through the dark with the steps of someone who had played in the tree house many times and knew the layout even in almost complete darkness. She stopped near the bed, her hand on the old tree around which the house had been built. “You can stay as long as you need to,” she said as though making up her mind. “You’ll be safe here and there’s no reason to rush off hurt and alone. Stay as long as you’d like.”

I rubbed my eyes against the sudden burn of tears at her unexpected kindness. I wasn’t the crying type by far; the wound must have taken more of a toll on me than I thought. “That means more than you know,” I said quietly, willing my voice to be steady. I leaned back against the wall.

“I’ll get you some more blankets,” she said quickly. She hurried back down the ladder and I listened to her footsteps cross the long grass to the house beyond. A door slid open, then I was left to the quiet of the forest. I closed my eyes and listened to the night breeze catch against the wood behind my head. It touched the rough fibers as though brushing shoulders with an old friend. Branches swayed and the sound of a million leaves rustling soothed the edges of my frayed nerves. I took a deep breath of clean air and let it out slowly.

The sliding door opened again and a little dog barked, then it closed and I listened to Kyla’s light footsteps as she made her way back to the ladder. She climbed up slowly and appeared with a flashlight held in her mouth as she heaved a pile of blankets through the hole.

I rose gingerly and offered her my hand. She hesitated, then took it with a surprised smile. We made the bed silently and she put the pills she had given me in a small cup on the wooden table by one of the windows. I sat back down on the bed and found myself watching her with the dazed detachment of someone too weary for sleep.

She bustled around the tree house cleaning what cobwebs she could reach with a stick and straightening the two chairs at the table. Strands of her dark blond hair had worked free of her braid and she blew them out of her eyes with an exasperated breath. When there was no more work to be done, she picked up the flashlight she had propped on the table and glanced at me. “I, uh, I guess I’ll be going,” she said uncertainly.

I gave her a weary smile. “Thank you again.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said. She hesitated. “I’ll leave you the flashlight in case you need to get around.” She set it on the table and threw me another smile before hurrying back down the ladder.

I settled down on the bed and shut my eyes. It took a long time for sleep to steal the tension from my shoulders and slow the torrent of thoughts in my mind.

Chapter 5- Kyla

I couldn’t sleep. All night, images of a door knob covered in blood, a rectangle of light, and unreadable golden eyes that turned blue when I looked directly at them crowded the sleep from my mind. He was alone, hurt, and probably more afraid than he dared show to a complete stranger.

I thought of the bravery Marek had shown when he talked me into stitching his wound, instilling confidence in me when I doubted myself; yet, I remembered how his hand shook when he held out the needle. He was hunted by something and had almost been killed. I don’t know how I would react if I was in the same situation.

Finally, when the clock on my nightstand showed three fifty-three a.m., I convinced myself that I should get him some food in case he woke up hungry while I was at school. I tiptoed downstairs and opened the refrigerator. As if on cue, Fellow, the black terrier mix Dad had brought home when someone tried to put him to sleep because he had fleas, poked his head around the corner. He always knew when someone was getting food.

I took out the lunch meat and began to make sandwiches. I finally gave in to his pleading dark eyes. “Oh, alright.” I tossed him a small piece of ham which he caught and gulped down faster than I could blink. “I’m not supposed to give you people food because of your diet, but I think it’s more that the taste is wasted on you!” I whispered. Fellow licked his nose, begging for more.

I shook my head and shut the fridge, put the sandwiches in a bag, and grabbed one of the sodas set aside for my brother’s lunch. I patted Fellow on the head, then whispered for him to be quiet before I left out the back door across the starlit lawn. I had to smile at the little dog watching me, his head cocked to one side and stubby tail wagging. At least he wasn’t much of a barker.

I tucked the sandwiches and soda into the pockets of my sweatshirt, put the small flashlight I had been using between my teeth, then climbed quietly up the ladder. A glance showed that Marek was asleep. He had tossed the blanket aside despite the chilly Charlton spring air, and had his knees pulled up with one arm held protectively across his side. I touched his forehead, worried about fever. He felt hot and one of the pills was gone from the cup.

I set the sandwiches on the small, rickety table. When I turned back, Marek was staring at me. I froze, my heart pounding. His eyes were gold, narrowed, and cautious. I remembered the look from when I first flipped on the light at the clinic. He looked wild again, an untamed animal ready to flee. He didn’t recognize me.

“Marek, it’s okay. It’s me, Kyla.” My voice shook.

He rose slowly into a crouch against the wall, his eyes never leaving my face. He put his right hand on the bed to steady himself, then glanced down at it, seeming surprised at the bandages. He looked around, blinking his eyes as if willing them to focus in the dark tree house.

“Marek, you’re okay. You’ve got a fever. I brought you some food.” The flashlight slipped from my fingers. I fumbled for it. When I brought it back up, Marek stood against the far wall. He held his side and the pain he felt showed on his face.

“You should lie down,” I said. I took a step closer.

“Stay back,” Marek growled. His eyes reflected the meager flashlight’s light like a cat’s.

My heartbeat pounded loud in my ears. “You might tear open your stitches. I don’t think I could sew it again.” I gave him a half smile, hoping he would remember me.

He lifted his lips in a snarl. Fangs appeared in the starlight. His nose and mouth began to elongate. I stumbled backwards and fell against the wooden ladder. Marek took a step toward me and a growl rumbled from deep in his chest.

I cowered against the ladder, the flashlight forgotten. Somehow, my pocketknife was in my hand, but it seemed puny against the rumble that surrounded me. I felt hot breath on my neck. “Marek, no!” I cried. I wanted to run, but my legs were frozen in fear. I stayed crouched, my face hidden in my hands.

I heard Marek step back and forced myself to look up. He was at the wall again with his back to it. He shook his head, his eyes closed. When he opened them, they were blue once more. He slid down the wall to a crouch. I could see fear on his face as he looked around the small tree house. He glanced at the disheveled blanket that had been his bed, then down at the bandage on his side.

He flexed his hand slowly, straining the bandage across his knuckles. My heart pounded, my breathing loud in the tiny room. I couldn’t move. He looked up, and his eyes meeting mine freed my frozen limbs. I rose and took the two steps around the ladder and onto the first rung.

“Kyla.”

I looked at him and tried to fight the tears that filled my eyes. My hands shook.

Marek looked as though he wanted to come after me, to reassure me, but he held still as if he knew the shiver that ran up my spine. “Kyla, I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

I rushed down the ladder and ran toward the house. After pushing the door shut behind me, I ran silently up to my room and huddled under the covers. I pulled my tattered teddy bear against my face and willed in vain for the tears to stop coursing down my cheeks.

Chapter 6- Marek

I sat on the bed and buried my face in my hands. The fear of waking in a strange place still coursed through my veins, making my arms and legs shake with the strength it sapped from my body. I rubbed my eyes, ashamed of the fright I had seen on Kyla’s face. I knew I should leave and let her return to a life with a facade of safety despite the danger I knew existed all around her.

But I couldn’t leave. I would go despite the pain and weariness that would take me down halfway through the city, giving myself to the menace of the streets in order to protect Kyla’s family from the terror that dogged my steps. I would go to protect her from the nightmares that would torment her dreams after tonight. I would go to keep her beautiful green eyes from filling with the fear I had brought to her.

But instinct kept me still. I listened to the night outside the tree house. The kiss of the wind through the leaves held a threatening edge as though warning me that the darkness was not to be traveled. The scent of the forest tangled with pollution from the surrounding city, the smell of car tires, the sour musk of dirty alleys, the cheap perfume, cigar, and alcohol scent of the still-open bars frequented more often as employment dwindled, the dark, threatening, fear-tainted scent of the Downs in the dark heart of the city.

I sat still and hated myself for the touch of fear that edged my senses, fear I had never felt toward the city that was my home. The city had never let me down before, but today had almost been my last. The shadows no longer offered the sanctuary I had naively trusted.

I leaned back against the wall and willed the fear from my body. I breathed deep of the scents that flowed through the tree house and embraced them, letting them fill my whole being. I thought of those who needed me. I had to go, but when I was able to defend them. I settled back slowly on the extra blankets Kyla had brought and studied the wooden ceiling.

Whoever had built the tree house had done so with love. The planks were fit together with mortar that had worn slowly away with age and let a few stars show past the leaves of the old tree. The floorboards barely creaked when stepped on, and the night breeze couldn’t slip through the joints near my head.

I set a hand against the wall and closed my eyes, imagining the care, love, and time locked into the fibers. I could smell countless children who had spent the night, smoke from campfires built below, the scent of a thousand rainstorms, the cold frost of deep winter, and the rich green breath of fresh cut grass. The scent eased the tension from my shoulders and I slept with the comfort of the grains beneath my fingers.

Chapter 7- Kyla

The sound of the alarm jarred me awake after the restless hour of sleep I had before it was time to get ready for school. I felt dazed as I forced myself out of bed, wondering if last night had been anything more than a dream. I grabbed a clean set of jeans from my dresser and by habit reached into the pocket from yesterday’s pair to transfer my knife over; only, the knife wasn’t there.

My heart sank. I could see myself rushing down the ladder, the grass damp with dew under my bare feet. I had the knife in the tree house, and now it was gone. I must have dropped it, but admitting that meant admitting to myself that last night had happened, that Marek was real, and that he truly was, well, what he was.

I pulled on the jeans, grabbed the nearest shirt in my closet, and ran down the stairs. When I appeared in the kitchen, Dad looked at me over the top of his coffee cup. “In a bit of a hurry, are we?”

“I’m late for a Biology study group,” I lied. I quickly braided my hair before gulping down the cup of orange juice Mom held out to me.

Dad’s eyebrows rose. “A study group?”

“Me and some of the girls are getting together before Mr. Sanderson’s big test tomorrow.”

“Probably just to talk about Dan Drowsky,” Kip said, rolling his eyes. He picked up his mostly empty cereal bowl and noisily slurped the milk.

“Shut up,” I snapped. My brother was only fourteen, but already thought he knew more than both of our parents combined. “You’re just jealous that you weren’t invited. Amanda’s going to be there.” Kip’s face turned as red as his hair at the mention of the hottest cheerleader on the cheer squad. I caught him drooling over her picture in the yearbook a few weeks ago. If he wanted to play hard ball, I was up for it this morning.

“Now kids, stop teasing each other,” Mom chided. She smiled at me. “I’m glad you’re getting together with the girls. Have a great time.”

“Thanks, Mom.” I kissed her on the cheek and took the buttered toast she offered. I leaned down and kissed Rosie’s yellow curls from where she sat in the high chair making gooey art with her scrambled eggs, then grabbed my backpack.

“Bye, Dad,” I shouted over my shoulder.

“Are you coming to the clinic today? You were there late last night,” Dad called back. “If you need a break to study for the test, go right ahead.”

I thought about what the day could hold. “I might take you up on that,” I shouted before closing the front door. At least if they didn’t see me right after school, I had a good excuse.

I couldn’t bring myself to look toward the tree house. It was hidden in the trees anyway, but I couldn’t shake off the slight chill that lifted goose bumps on my arms. One part of me wished that Marek was still there; the other part clung to the hopeless thought that maybe all of yesterday had been a bad dream.

The missing lump in my pocket where my knife usually resided made a good argument against the latter.

I hoped I wasn’t too early when I opened the door to Mr. Flinn’s room. I had to hide a grin when I saw old Mr. Flinn already writing notes on the whiteboard for the day’s classes. His handwriting was swirled and old-fashioned, extremely neat like the old books of penmanship I found at the book pawn.

He used different colors of markers to highlight the important points he felt every student should know. I had never thought about how much time he must take each morning with his notes, and never realized that the facts came straight from his head. There were no open history books for reference on his desk.

He tiptoed high to mark an especially interesting tidbit with an orange marker.

“Um, Mr. Flinn?”

The professor started and dropped the five or six markers he had been holding. He sighed, shook his head at the markers as if it was their fault they had fallen, then turned to me. “Why, Miss March, what can I do for you?”

“Oh, um. Sorry to startle you,” I replied. I set my backpack on an empty desk and sat on the edge of it.

“Oh, no, I wasn’t startled,” Mr. Flinn said. He turned and glared at the fallen markers as if daring them to disagree.

“Well, okay.” I was unconvinced, but I continued, “I have a question to ask you.”

“Ask away. That’s what I’m here for.” He peered at me over his glasses, his thin face suddenly serious.

“Well,” I hesitated, then rushed on before the memories of the night before could get the best of me. “I was wondering if you could tell me what you know of the Shifters?”

Mr. Flinn’s bushy white eyebrows rose. “Shifters? Every time I start talking about them, you young people ask me to talk about the Falconans instead. You think they’re more exciting. It seems as though everyone’s forgotten a major step we took toward reaching the Falconan age.” He looked flustered that anyone would skip anything in relation to history.

“Almost everyone, Professor,” I reminded him.

“Hmm? Oh, yes.” He perched on the edge of another desk and nodded. “You’re asking about the Shifters. Is there anything in particular you want me to cover?”

I shook my head. “Everything we have time for.” I was grateful he didn’t ask why I wanted to know.

He nodded again and fell easily into the teaching cadence with which I was already familiar. His eyes took on a distant cast as if he saw the picture created by his words. “As you know, during the third World War, countries closed their borders with shocking brutality. Our soldiers and other citizens who were living or traveling abroad were captured and either held hostage to trade back for their own, or killed without mercy. The numbers of the lost were devastating, especially in light of the fact that the government was unable to issue the draft to reinforce our military. Everyone was afraid. The number of soldiers going AWOL skyrocketed, and nobody enlisted. The government was forced to resort to other options for defense.”

He sighed and moved into a chair, his face darkening. “They turned to genetic mutation and DNA combination. The goal was to create a super-soldier that had both the qualities of a man and the selective, superior qualities of certain animals. They wanted these genetically enhanced soldiers to be able to shift from pure human to being able to use their animal traits at will, thus making them the perfect undercover soldier in any number of situations.”

Charles Brink, Mr. Flinn’s teacher’s aide, dropped some books on one of the desks and left, his mind apparently on other concerns than as to why I was having a one on one discussion with a teacher whose class I usually couldn’t wait to get out of. “However,” Mr. Flinn continued, undisturbed, “They found that they could only make a human who could shift from full man to full animal. They wanted certain characteristics of the animals, like the strength of a bear or the claws of a cougar, not the cougar itself.”

“The Shifters, as they were called, were scratched out as failures. The labs turned instead to producing men whose genes were mutated for strength and mixed with those of a falcon, the fastest bird in nature. As you know, the Falconans can’t change form and look mostly human, except they’re bigger and have wings and clawed feet.”

My eyes widened. “I thought they wore clawed boots for the effect.”

Mr. Flinn shook his head. “They have razor sharp talons strong enough to crush a man’s skull.”

I fell silent for a moment, thinking of the Falconans I had seen watching the streets that morning. “The Falconans don’t fly. Were they supposed to be able to?”

Mr. Flinn chuckled. “A sore spot at the labs, I’m sure. Yes, they’re supposed to fly. Currently, they can glide long distances on their wings, but the problem is that the Falconans are too heavy to actually fly. I’ve been told it’s something they’re working on, an evolving trait they hope to develop.”

“A lot of people are scared of the Falconans. They don’t seem that human.” I traced the names and words that had been carved into the desk where I sat and kept my face averted, afraid of what Mr. Flinn would find there.

“They’ve been well-trained not to show emotion. It makes them more formidable.” He pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. “Folk would be good to fear them a bit. With that many trained soldiers about squashing uprisings and guarding the borders, people start to feel like they’re the ones being guarded.” His voice lowered. “I hope that’s not really the plan.”

A bell sounded for first period. I stood and grabbed my backpack to relocate it to one of the rear desks I usually occupied. “What happened to the Shifters after the experiments failed?”

“I’ve wondered that myself for quite a while. Doesn’t seem fair to me the way a life can be considered a mistake just for being what it is.” He studied me and his eyes widened. His faded blue eyes twinkled with sudden excitement behind his glasses. “You’ve seen one of them, haven’t you? That’s the reason for all these questions.”

I hesitated, then nodded.

Mr. Flinn gave a sharp laugh and his face lit with a relief that seemed out of place in our conversation. “I knew it! I knew some of them escaped!”

“How did you know?” I was suddenly alarmed. Had I told the wrong person?

“The experiments.” He fell silent for a second as if debating whether or not he could trust me. He finally nodded. “I-I was assisting at night as a janitor at a hospital about fifteen years back to help pay for my wife’s hospital bills, God rest her soul, when some of the children started to disappear.”

He rubbed his eyes. “These kids would undergo surgery, then they would be pronounced dead, but they weren’t. They would hide them in the back rooms and they would be gone the next day. When I was cleaning, I noticed that they were throwing away full files with the kids’ medical records, something hospitals aren’t allowed to do.”

He glanced at the door as the first students started to file in. “I saw the trucks one night, black trucks with dark tinted windows. I followed them to a place outside the city, but I couldn’t get past the security gates. I know it was them. I tried, but I could never prove that they were taking the children for their testing because no one would enlist. They had no one else to experiment on.”

“That’s horrible!” I said. I thought of Marek, hurt and alone, and hunted. Compassion ran through me at the thought of the fear in his eyes when he didn’t recognize me. I couldn’t image how it would feel to be taken away for experiments. Who knew what he had gone through?

Mr. Flinn glanced at the students settling into seats. He stood and walked to his desk, motioning for me to follow him. He continued in a low whisper, “I was so worried about them when the labs announced their change in tactics. That’s why I’ve followed the Falconans so closely.”

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. When he put the glasses back on, he squinted. “The thing I can’t figure out is how they have so many Falconans in such a short time. No one is enlisting, and even if they continue to take children from hospitals, they’re children. The Falconans we see are grown adults.” He sighed. “The poor kids. Who knows what they’re going through?” His face suddenly brightened as he switched gears almost faster than I could follow. “Can I meet him?”

I shook my head, trying to picture how Marek would react if I brought a stranger to see him. “He’s. . .shy,” I said, searching for a softer word for what I had seen.

Mr. Flinn nodded. “Terrified, more like it, if he’s smart.”

I gave a reluctant nod. “Extremely. Why is he so scared if the government doesn’t need Shifters anymore?”

“He should be running for his life,” Mr. Flinn replied seriously. “The government made a mistake with the Shifters, and they tried to cover it up by pretending they were working on the Falconans all along. The problem is that word got out about Shifters long before we saw the Falconans. Millions of dollars, not to mention lives, were wasted. Shifters were a mistake, a huge mistake, and the government usually does what it can to erase mistakes. People begin to doubt an imperfect government, though all of them are imperfect. They have to erase the Shifters.”

I realized the classroom was about full. My classmates were already busy copying down the notes Mr. Flinn had so tediously written on the whiteboards. “I’d better sit down. I appreciate the information.”

“Any time,” he replied with a kind smile.

I walked quickly to a seat in the back.

“Miss March?”

I paused in the act of pulling my History book from my backpack. “Yes, Professor?”

“Take good care of him, okay?” He waited until I nodded, then said, “If you need any help, please let me know.”

“I will, thank you.” I hurriedly set my book on my desk and opened my notebook to begin copying notes. My face was red from the questioning stares of my peers. I hoped none of them asked Mr. Flinn what we had been talking about.

Chapter 8- Marek

Light danced on my eyelids. I opened my eyes slowly and squinted at a ray of light that filtered through the cracks between the ceiling boards to touch my face. I lifted a hand and watched the sunlight play between my fingers. My side ached and the sweat of a light fever made the blankets stick to my skin.

I rose slowly with a hand on my side and crossed to the table. Sitting in one of the wooden chairs made cleverly of branches and waxed twine, I opened one of the sodas Kyla had brought and used it to wash down another pill. I ate a few bites of a sandwich, then made myself wait so my roiling stomach could settle.

A squirrel slipped through a hole near the trunk of the tree and ran about the tree house as though he owned it. He climbed to the bed and his nose twitched, then he turned and stared at me, his eyes wide and nose working furiously. I tossed a piece of crust toward the bed, but he scampered off and darted back up the trunk without looking back. I bent gingerly and tossed the crust down the opening in the floor to the foot of the ladder where I hoped the squirrel would find it.

I longed to climb down the ladder and sit in the sunshine that warmed the grass and loam below, but a fear of being seen and the thought that I might not be able to climb back up again kept me still. I sat back on the bed and closed my eyes. An image of looming wings, the glint of a blade in a streetlight, and cruel yellow eyes made me sit up again. I willed my heart to slow and told myself that I was safe, but I didn’t believe my lie.

Chapter 9- Kyla

Morning classes rushed by in a blur; I spent my lunch hour in the library searching the Internet for anything on the Shifters. I found a few sites that mentioned posters’ own ideas as to how the Shifters had been created; others were set up as a sort of cult following for anything Shifter related, and one offered a sanctuary for Shifters but even I wouldn’t trust it.

I gave up with the bell, frustrated but also interested by the lack of information. Usually, there was material and speculation in surplus on any topic. The shortage of sites about Shifters, and the vagueness of the few I found, made it seem as if someone was controlling the amount of information allowed.

Home Economics was a class I usually detested because it felt like it took three hours instead of one due to Ms. Parklin’s droning tone, but today it sped by as I mulled over what Mr. Flinn had said. The last bell rang and I rose from my seat only slightly concerned that I didn’t remember a single topic that was covered in class that day.

I raced through the junkie lot in too much of a hurry to go around, then took the tiny alley that led to the second parking lot. The safety in numbers theory would have helped if the jocks and cheerleaders used the second lot; but as it was, they deemed the first lot next to the school their own private place to park, and left the second to those who weren’t athletic or popular enough to have leagues of minions eager to reserve their spots.

Unfortunately, to get to the second lot we had to cross the parking lot of the boarded up grocery store that the junkies generally used to loiter and sell their goods. I suspected by the red eyes and smoke halos that they burned as much as they sold. The rest of the school not sports, shopping, or drug inclined took the second school lot by default, not by choice. I found myself wishing I had my pocketknife as I made my way down the small alley after the grocery store. It wasn’t until I stepped out into the sunshine by my car that I was able to breathe easily again.

Once home, I ran inside and dropped my school bag on the table. I grabbed some sodas from the fridge, took a spare, nondescript t-shirt of Dad’s from the Salvation Army bag, then made my way to the backyard. Fellow had followed me happily from room to room, his stubby tail wagging at fifty miles per hour. He now sat at the back door with his head low and nose pressed against the glass.

“Don’t look so sad, Fellow. I’ll be back,” I reassured him. His tail gave a small, unconvinced wag.

I walked between the trees to the tree house. The land I traveled had belonged to my grandfather, Kyle Matthew March, for whom I had been named. He had been offered millions of dollars to sell the land for industrial development, but had stubbornly refused, keeping it instead to pass onto his family. A huge razor-wire fence topped an eight foot brick wall that surrounded the property to keep the junkies out. The result was a quiet sanctuary within the heart of the city, our own private forest and my favorite place in the world.

Five years ago on my grandfather’s invitation, we had moved from our small town house to his home to help care for him before he passed away. The house was built on some of the finest land in Charlton and he had willed the land and house to Dad when he died on the condition that we never sell it.

I loved the forest and the freedom I felt there. On our many long walks through the trees, Grandfather had described the area as once being surrounded by fields upon fields of alfalfa, barley, and corn, land which had been sold to money-savvy investors and turned into space-saving apartments, skyscrapers, warehouses, and factories. Grandpa always said he owned one of the last slices of heaven in Charlton.

When he passed the house to his daughter and son-in-law, it was with the strict command that no land was to be sold and no trees cut without good reason. The first had given Kip his spending money with the hours it took to take care of the lawn. The second had given us years of shade, fruit, and a privacy and seclusion seldom found in a big city.

The trees became companions as dear to me as they had been to Grandfather. I knew every ancient oak and new sapling by heart, and walked through the thick grass with the familiarity of being among old friends.

I followed the path that had slowly become overgrown through the years but still showed the indent of hundreds of footprints. My footsteps slowed when I neared the tree. I touched the ladder uneasily. Taking a steeling breath, I made my way slowly up the worn rungs. The memory of the night before weighed my steps as I neared the top. I paused, uncertain of what I would find. I blinked in the half-light of the tree house, blinded after the walk through the sun.

“Come in. I won’t hurt you,” Marek said quietly. “I never meant to scare you.”

“It’s okay,” I replied, relieved. He sat at the table looking out the window at the forest of trees. I stepped off the ladder and crossed to him. “I understand. I just didn’t know.”

Marek shook his head without meeting my eyes. “You shouldn’t have to understand. You saved my life and I repay you by attacking you?” His voice dropped. “What kind of an animal am I?”

I set the sodas on the table and sat down across from him on the other rickety chair my grandfather had built by hand. “Marek, you were hurt and being hunted. You had a fever last night and didn’t know where you were. I was the one who should have been more careful. I shouldn’t have left you alone.” I watched a drop of condensation as it made its way slowly to the bottom of my can.

Marek stared out the window, his brow creased behind his disheveled black hair. When he turned back to me, the tug of a smile hinted at the corners of his mouth. “You are a very brave girl, Kyla. Thank you.”

My cheeks grew red at the unexpected compliment. “Well, just don’t scare me like that ever again, okay?”

Marek held a hand over his heart. “I vow to never scare you again,” he said, his blue eyes bright.

I laugh and slid the second soda toward him. Marek opened it and took a drink. When he set it back down, he was solemn again. “Kyla, I want to show you something.”

“Okay,” I replied uncertainly.

“Can you go with me somewhere tomorrow?”

I hesitated, but something in his eyes begged me to agree. I finally nodded. “I can’t go tomorrow because I have school, but I can go on Saturday. I just need to come up with an excuse for my parents.”

“Will they worry?” he asked with concern.

I smiled. “They always worry. It’s what parents do. But they’re great, you know?”

He shook his head, his eyes averted, and I realized that if he had parents, he would have called them when he was hurt. Instead, I was the one who found him.

I felt awful for mentioning my parents, but then I had an idea. “Do you want to meet them?”

“Who?” Marek asked warily.

“My family. They’re great. You’d like them,” I urged.

Marek shook his head quickly. “No, I shouldn’t. I mean, you know what I am. I shouldn’t be here.”

I held up a hand to stop his protests. “Tell you what. Come have dinner and if you get too uncomfortable, we can go.” He didn’t answer so I gave him a teasing smile. “My mom cooks a great meal. Much better than the sandwiches I make,” I said persuasively.

He fought back a smile, and I knew I had won. “You make good sandwiches,” he tried to protest.

“Come on, we’re going.” I rose and tossed him the spare shirt. He slipped it over his head and eased his arms through it, then paused and smelled the fabric. “Whose is this?”

“My dad’s,” I replied. At his troubled look, I laughed, “Don’t worry. He won’t recognize it; he hasn’t worn it for years.”

Marek climbed down the ladder slowly, but outside the tree house he seemed happier, more alive. We wandered through the trees toward the house, the shadows of leaves pirouetting at our feet and the evening breeze at our backs.

“Which one is your favorite?” Marek asked as he ran his hand along the bark of a maple tree.

I didn’t answer. I had been teased ruthlessly by Kip for all the time I spent in our private forest. He thought it was hilarious that I had a favorite tree; but a sideways glance showed that Marek wasn’t teasing. He seemed as in awe of the swaying giants as I was. “You really want to know?” At his nod, I smiled. “Come on, I’ll show you. We still have some time before everyone’s home anyway.”

He followed me along the path worn by my countless trips through the trees. The sun, close to setting, shed only fleeting light through the thick canopy. The air was cool and smelled of rich loam and ivy. I took a deep breath.

Marek did the same. “You know, no matter how hard it is to be a Shifter sometimes, I’ve never regretted it.” I looked at him. His eyes were closed and he faced the direction of the slight breeze that made the trees sway gently overhead. “Some things are so much more than they would be if I was completely human.” He glanced at me, his expression slightly embarrassed.

Intrigued, I pressed him. “Like what?”

“Well.” He shrugged and brushed his hair back from his eyes in a self-conscious gesture. “Like smell and sight. Even as a human,” he paused, then glanced at me and continued, “I still have my wolf senses. I can smell a mouse crouched under that bush in the hopes that we’ll pass by without noticing it.” He turned away from me and took another deep breath. “I can smell the factories and warehouses, and stagnant water in the pond at North Park. I smell rain on the breeze, not the rain that will come tonight, but a thick, drenching storm days away. I smell the sun.” He turned back to me, his blue eyes searching mine. “You know the smell the sun brings when it dries everything after a rain?” I nodded. “It’s all those things,” he concluded softly. “A love for life. Sometimes I wonder if they knew what they were doing when they starting experiment with wolf DNA.”

“Why is that?” Basic knowledge about Shifters that had circled around at the beginning of the Falconan time was that a lot of them were part wolf. It hadn’t occurred to me until now to wonder why.

“How much do you know about wolves?” Marek asked.

“Not much,” I admitted with a shrug.

He gingerly picked up a stick and began to peel off the bark. “Wolves are pack animals and intensely loyal to the others within their pack. I think that’s why they chose the wolf, because they wanted that type of loyalty and unity in their soldiers. Wolves know how to follow a leader, and how to band together to protect their territory. They’re fierce and strong, willing to give their lives for their pack. But they overlooked something.”

I waited, afraid to interrupt in case he closed up again. He seemed so alive in the forest, as if he was in his element. He took a breath, held it for a moment, and then let it out slowly. “Wolves don’t do well in captivity, or forced training. Above anything, a wolf loves its freedom, its territory, and its pack. The wolf and the pack choose each other and are usually made up of a big family. They aren’t forced to be submissive, meek, and led around by a collar.” Marek snapped the twig. He glanced back at me, his eyes cautious and guarded once more.

“We’re almost to the tree,” I said quietly. I pointed through a small grove of aspens. “Just through there.” I let him go first. He stopped inside the tree line and stared at the massive, ancient oak. Its branches, hung with ivy and moss, spread out over the aspens like protective arms. The lower branches were thick and smooth, worn through years of climbing.

I couldn’t help but smile. The tree had always been a sanctuary to me. It made me feel calmer just being near it. “This tree was my grandfather’s favorite. It’s the reason he kept this place and asked us to never sell.”

“It’s amazing,” Marek agreed softly. He walked up to the massive, gnarled trunk and put a hand on one of the worn branches. “You come here often?” He asked without looking back at me.

I nodded though he couldn’t see me. “When I’m not at school or the clinic, I’m usually up there reading.”

“It’s peaceful here,” Marek said. He glanced at me. “I can see why this is your favorite tree.”

The sound of a ringing bell broke the hush of the forest. The not-so-gentle clanging startled birds above us; they began to chirp in protest. Marek backed beneath the branches as if he belonged with them. The fading daylight dappled his hair in light and shadow. His eyes shone gold in the half light of dusk as he looked warily through the trees toward the source of the bell.

I held up my hands. “It’s okay. It’s my mom letting me know it’s time for dinner.” I stared at him, hoping I wasn’t about to see part two of last night.

He stepped forward, his gaze cautious. He glanced in the direction of the house again, then back at me. A smile tugged at his lips, surprising me. His eyes were blue again. “A dinner bell?” he asked.

I nodded, still wary.

“She rings it like it’s the end of the world,” he commented.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “If we miss dinner, it will be!”

We hurried through the trees. When we reached the house, I saw Marek glance at the old triangle Mom loved to use because it reminded her of her mother. I wondered if Marek’s hearing was as sensitive as his sense of smell and if he could still hear it tolling. He caught my gaze and gave me a knowing look as though he knew what I was thinking. I blushed and led him to the garage so it would appear like we came from school.

When we reached the kitchen, Mom and Dad were already seated and dishing up chicken and stuffing while they waited for their tardy children. Rosie played happily with a pile of green beans in her highchair, squashing them between her chubby hands with obvious enjoyment. When Marek and I entered, all three stopped and stared.

“Uh, Mom, Dad, this is Marek.” I forced myself not to scuff my shoe on the floor like an errant child. I gave Mom a look I hoped said please try to act like it’s not weird that I’ve invited a boy home for dinner.

Luckily, Mom got the message. “Marek, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said with such a smooth, casual warmth it took the awkwardness away. I grinned at her in relief. “Please sit down and make yourself at home.” Mom rose and grabbed the extra chair from the computer desk in the corner and set a new place next to mine.

Dad still stared. Marek looked at the floor uncomfortably. I sat quickly in my usual spot and motioned for Marek to take the seat next to me. “Dad, Marek’s been helping me with my Biology homework.”

Dad’s eyebrows rose, but he finally nodded. “Biology’s her worst subject,” he said, watching Marek. “She prefers Zoology.”

Marek smiled in understanding. “Can’t blame her. Given the choice between looking at slides under a microscope or identifying the types of birds in your amazing forest, I’d take the birds any day.”

Mom and Dad both smiled and it was my turn to stare. In one smooth breath, he had complimented the forest dear to Mom’s heart, and gotten Dad’s approval through his interest in animals. What happened to the half-wild fugitive I had found at the clinic?

Kip opened the door to his room and made his way noisily down the stairs. Fellow reached the kitchen ahead of my brother and then froze, his short nose twitching. He stared at Marek, then started to bark in a frenzy.

“Fellow!” Mom scolded. “Stop it. That’s not nice!”

“Who’s the stranger?” Kip asked in his tactful way.

“A friend of Kyla’s,” Dad said over Fellow’s yapping.

“Kyla has friends?” Kip replied. He spooned enough stuffing onto his plate to feed a small army.

I ignored the remark; I was too busy watching Marek’s reaction to Fellow. He seemed interested in the little black dog, but not alarmed. Fellow grew bold in his self-appointed station as protector of the family. He inched closer and closer to Marek, barking all the while. Marek turned so that he faced the little dog directly and stared at him. Fellow’s barking slowed. Marek bent down slowly while still sitting on his chair. His eyes glinted gold for the briefest second. I glanced around to see if anyone in my family had noticed.

Everyone was watching Fellow instead. The little dog immediately stopped barking. He settled down submissively and rested his chin on the floor between his paws, his bright eyes on Marek. Marek turned back to the table, suddenly aware that everyone was watching him. “Nice dog,” he said as nonchalantly as possible.

“He’s never been this good around a stranger,” Dad said in amazement.

“He’s never been this good, ever,” Mom echoed with a laugh. “He’s usually begging for scraps by now.”

Marek shrugged. “Dogs always seem to be good once they’re used to me.”

I realized then why the dogs at Dad’s clinic hadn’t barked when Marek broke in. They felt a kinship to him. His ability to shift must somehow make him seem unthreatening to them.

“Man, we should get him in with Tank, eh, Kyla?” Dad said with a nudge.

“Tank?” Marek asked politely.

“A junkyard dog,” Dad explained. “His owner couldn’t handle him anymore. Too mean. I just haven’t had the heart to put him down.”

“He terrifies the other employees,” I explained. “But Dad’s a big softie.”

“And you’re my accomplice,” Dad shot back with a grin. He wasn’t the only one who hoped the feral dog could be tamed.

At Mom’s invitation, Marek helped himself to some mashed potatoes. He poured gravy over everything and began to eat with obvious relish. Mom looked pleased.

“What’d you do to your hand?” Kip asked after a few minutes of silence.

My heart slowed, but Marek didn’t miss a beat. “Hockey,” he said, using the injured hand to sweep the hair from his eyes. “Caught a stick. You play?”

Kip sat up. Marek had hit on his favorite topic and carried battle wounds from it. Another point for the stranger. “Me and some friends play every day after school in an empty lot by the library. You should join us sometime.”

“Maybe I will,” Marek replied. I was surprised to hear that he really meant it.

Rosie threw a handful of stuffing at Fellow. It landed with a satisfying thunk inches from the dog’s nose, but the little terrier didn’t budge. He kept his eyes on Marek, and his short tail wagged enthusiastically whenever the young man glanced in his direction.

“Maybe I should be serious about bringing you in to meet Tank,” Dad commented as Mom scooped the stuffing up in a napkin. She spooned some potatoes onto Rosie’s plate, then sighed when they took up residence where the stuffing had been.

She gave up and turned to Kip. “The lawn needs to be mowed tomorrow. The rabbits are making their way from the trees to my garden under cover.”

Kip sighed but didn’t protest because mowing meant more spending money. He shoveled a spoonful of potatoes into his mouth and spoke around it to Marek. “Hey, do you want to come over for movie night tomorrow?”

My forkful of green beans froze on their way to my mouth, but Marek looked at Mom and Dad. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Oh, we’d love to have you over,” Mom said sincerely. “The more, the merrier!” I could see the sparkle in her eyes that meant she would make cookies and popcorn since we would have a visitor. Maybe having Marek over wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Great!” Kip accepted for Marek. “You can help me pick out a movie!”

“Anything but Indiana Jones or Star Wars,” I pleaded with a sigh. “We watch one every time it’s your turn.”

“I don’t know, Kyla,” Marek said with a shrug and a teasing gleam in his eyes. “A guy with a whip searching for lost treasure while being chased by other guys with guns. Indiana has a lot going for him.”

I rolled my eyes as Kip, Mom, and even Dad laughed.

By the end of dinner, it felt as though Marek had spent countless evenings with our family. He and Dad talked about various breeds of dogs and what they were raised for, a topic upon which Marek was surprisingly well-versed. Kip made him promise to play hockey someday soon, and Mom practically glowed when he asked her how she made such perfect lemon meringue bars. He even made Rosie laugh by making her cracker disappear and then reappear behind Kip’s ear.

It was a great evening, the best in a long time. Usually everyone ate and ran, rushing to evening appointments, school activities, friends’ houses, or paying bills, but today everyone seemed content to relax and talk. I found myself watching the black-haired stranger even closer. I felt as if each side he revealed led to a greater mystery. He fit in so well and was a perfect gentleman; yet I saw him glance out the windows more than once as though he had to remind himself where he was and why he was there. He couldn’t let his guard down all the way. He was still being hunted.

Marek finally rose from the table. “Well, I should head home so I can get ready for school tomorrow. I’ve still got some homework to do.”

“Do you need a ride?” Mom asked anxiously.

Marek shook his head. “No, thank you. I don’t live far, and I’ve intruded on your hospitality long enough.” He ruffled Rosie’s hair in passing to set his plates in the sink. “Do you need help cleaning up?”

“Oh, no,” Mom replied. “I’ve got it. Don’t you worry about a thing, dear.”

Dad’s eyebrows rose, and I knew he was surprised that any boy would offer to clean up at someone else’s house. “It was nice to have you over,” he said. He held out a hand and Marek shook it with his bandaged one. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you.”

“Thank you, sir,” Marek replied. “Later, dude,” he said with a nod at Kip.

“See you tomorrow,” Kip replied.

Marek bent down and patted Fellow on the head. The little dog licked his fingers, but didn’t jump all over him as he would have with the same attention from any other stranger. He smiled at me last. “Thanks for having me over.”

“Thanks for coming,” I replied, relieved and amazed that the night had gone so well. “We’ll see you tomorrow?”

He nodded again with his genuine smile. “I’ll be here.”

“Are you sure you don’t need a lift home?” Mom pressed.

“No, thank you. I really do live close by.” He opened the front door, then turned back to wave at Rosie through the doorway to the family room. “Besides, I like the rain. Goodnight, March family. Thank you for a wonderful evening.” After our answering goodnights, he shut the front door.

Mom glanced out the window. “It’s not raining,” she said.

At that moment, thunder rumbled so loud the water in my cup moved. Rain began to pour, first in a trickle, then in steady sheets.

“Well,” Dad replied with a satisfied smile, “I like the boy. He knows how to make an exit.” Everyone laughed and began to help clearing plates.

Chapter 10- Marek

I waited at the corner of the house for a moment, but by the scent the storm was definitely not going to let up anytime soon. I ducked against the cold drops and stepped into the downpour. My worn sneakers quickly soaked up the water. I took off my shoes and slung them over my shoulder, enjoying the way the wet grass felt beneath my bare feet. I entered the shelter of the trees and the rain eased slightly until the wind brushed against the branches to send a downpour of drops on my head.

I leaned against the ladder and waited for my energy to return so I could climb up to bed. Animals disappeared into their dens and nests to wait out the storm. An enterprising owl called overhead, hoping to pick up a creature distracted by the rain. I climbed the ladder slowly and entered the comfortable darkness of the tree house.

The minute splash of water droplets pattered along the wooden floor and the blankets on the bed. I redirected most of the rain back outside with odds and ends around the tree house, then used one of the blankets to dry my skin and clothes the best I could. Chills ran through my body from the low fever that seemed reluctant to go away.

I wrapped another blanket around my shoulders, then sank onto one of the chairs by the table and watched the storm. Lightning illuminated the trees and tumultuous clouds shaded in black and gray. Memories that weren’t mine rose unbidden to my thoughts. I saw a different forest, evergreens amid large boulders, stalwart bushes, and the ground covered in pine needles and fallen leaves. The sharp, woody scent told of deer in hidden meadows, wild turkeys in low branches, and wolves who had traveled the same path many times.

My paws touched the forest floor with a quiet cadence that was nearly soundless amid the carpet of leaves. I felt sure of my surroundings, protected beneath the familiar trees, and excited to reach the end of my run. A low sound cut through the moonlit night, the clear, solemn, soul-carrying howl of a wolf. My heartbeat quickened and filled with joy.

I stopped near a brook that babbled merrily between rocks and fallen branches and lifted my head. An answer rose from deep in my chest, bringing with it all the contentment, happiness, and comfort I felt in the midnight forest. My howl mingled with the first, and soon other voices joined us, voices so familiar my body rang with the rightness of it all. I lowered my head and loped through the trees, eager to go home.

I rubbed my eyes with one hand and let the memory fade. They crept up on me in quiet moments when my guard was down. Usually I chased them away, but it had been nice for a moment to feel something, even something that wasn’t my own to feel. I wanted to answer the howl that wasn’t meant for me. My limbs ached for me to shift so I could find the forest again, a forest I had never been to. I thought of my home, or what had become my home, and felt the same longing run through my body. I hoped the others were alright.

Chapter 11- Kyla

I waited until eleven o’clock that night and made sure my parents were asleep before I left the house. I pulled my parka close against the driving rain, carrying a couple of garbage bags underneath. It had been years since I was in the tree house during a rain storm, and I could only imagine the number of leaks Marek might be dealing with.

A flash of lightening illuminated the black opening in the wood panels above as my flashlight beam found the ladder. I hesitated with my foot on the first rung; memories from the night before crowded into my mind. I began to second-guess my decision to come back at night.

“It’s okay,” Marek said from above. “I promise not to bite you.”

My face turned bright red and I was glad he couldn’t see it. “I’m on my way up,” I replied. I fumbled with the garbage bags for a moment to let my cheeks cool, then climbed up the ladder.

Marek was sitting next to the window, his profile illuminated by the next flash of lightening. He turned and gave me a warm smile. “A better reception than last time, huh? I feel horrible about that.” He rose to help with the garbage bags.

“It’s okay,” I replied. I made myself comfortable on the other chair and glanced around. There were surprisingly few drips. The main one, formed above the blankets on Marek’s bed, had been systematically diverted with a cup, a couple of plastic spoons tied together, and a grocery sack pulled flat like a ramp to send the rain out the window.

“Very crafty,” I said with a grin.

Marek shrugged. “It’s better than sleeping on wet blankets.” He nodded at the garbage bags. “Those’ll do better, I suppose, but mine’s got a nice sound to it.”

I listened for a moment to the small trickle of water as it made its way down the obstacle course and had to agree. “Yes, I prefer it your way, too.”

He smiled and sat back down at the table. “Your family is splendid.”

“Well, they sure like you. Now they’ll expect all the boys I bring home to be as charming.”

Marek’s eyebrows rose. “You find me charming?”

My cheeks felt hot again. I fumbled over my words, then gave up. “You relate well to strangers.”

Marek studied the table. “As first impressions go, I did better with them than I did with you.” He grew serious. “Actually, public relations are very important in what I do.”

Intrigued, I sat forward. “What exactly do you do?”

“I’ll show you on Saturday, but it might not be what you’re expecting.” He studied me, his blue eyes calm and serious. “I’m not part of a circus, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

I blushed for the third time and kicked myself mentally for being so easy to read.

Marek continued, “I do know a few Shifters who have found a comfortable living that way, and acceptance.” He gave a small sigh. “I try to tell them that it’s just members of one freak show paying to see members of another.” He met my stare, his gaze frank and direct. “We’re all in this together, you know? Deep down, we’re all the same.”

I looked out the window at the falling rain. I thought about how many times I had been made fun of for reading or for being on good terms with my teachers. I thought of the junkies and the jocks, how they never quarreled openly, but hated each other just the same. How would it be if everyone could see the world through Marek’s eyes? And he was more different than anyone I had ever met.

I turned back and found him watching me. I dropped my eyes and rose from the table. “I’d better go. I have a test in the morning.”

“Kyla.” His tone was different. I turned around slowly.

“You put yourself and your family in danger to help me. You’ve done so much, first saving my life, then giving me a place to sleep and inviting me in to meet your family.” He rose from his chair with a hand holding his side and turned to stare out the window.

I realized then that he hadn’t made a single gesture at my house to remind me of his injury. He had hidden it from us so well even I had forgotten about it. Somehow, now, it made me feel better that he didn’t feel he had to hide it from me, that he trusted me enough to show weakness.

He continued quietly, “If you ask me to, I’ll leave right now. My presence puts your family in constant danger of the Falconans.”

“They couldn’t hurt us. By law, they protect us,” I said, but the second they left my mouth, I doubted my words.

“Don’t be fooled by them.” Marek looked up at the dark, pouring clouds. “Most of them don’t have a conscience. Their captains are their law. If told to do so, they would tear your house down around your family without a second’s hesitation.” His brow creased. “I don’t want to bring that here.” Silence filled the small tree house. He seemed almost resigned, as if he expected me to send him away.

“Stay,” I said firmly. “I won’t turn you out there with those monsters. Look at what they did to you.” He glanced back at me, his eyes unreadable. “I want to help however I can.”

He studied his bandaged hand, and I could see that his thoughts were racing. “I should go. . . .”

“You promised my brother you’d be there tomorrow,” I reminded him.

He smiled despite his concerns and looked at me. “I guess I can’t break a promise, can I?”

I shook my head, an answering smile on my face. “I’ll see you back here when I return from the clinic tomorrow. I’ve got to help Dad out for a bit or he’ll think something’s wrong.”

Marek nodded. “I’ll be here. Don’t worry.”

Chapter 12 –Marek

I listened to Kyla’s family leave in their cars the next morning, then climbed carefully down the ladder. I wandered through the extraordinary forest and followed my nose to an apple tree. The apples were small and red with thick skin and the sweetest centers I had ever tasted. I took three and ate them at the base of Kyla’s tree. The ground around the trunk was worn; it was easy to see how much time she spent in the branches. I found myself envying her for her free time and the easy ability to enjoy hours alone immersed in a good book.

Her kind eyes and beautiful face appeared in my mind, wiping the envy from my soul. She deserved every moment of peace and freedom, every second of happiness. I clenched my fist to flex the bandages around my hand; the thought of Kyla’s soft touch sent a small tremor through my skin. She gave without thought of getting back, something so rare in the world.

Her scent of ink and paper, Mrs. March’s cooking, her beloved forest, the raspberry scent of her shampoo, and the antiseptic and animal smell of the clinic came from the tree as though they belonged to each other. I closed my eyes and breathed it in, then chastised myself for my foolishness. She could do much, much better than me, and the sooner she went about it, the safer for her.

I rose slowly and walked back to the tree house. The sun bathed my face between flashes of shadow from the trees above. I was about to climb the ladder when the glint of something small amid the grass caught my eye. I bent gingerly and picked up a small red pocketknife. The memory of Kyla holding it at the clinic and then the other night when I scared her swept through my mind. I put a hand on the ladder, but a strange feeling kept me from climbing up. I turned and walked quickly through the trees.

Chapter 13-Kyla

Friday went by even faster than Thursday. I found myself struggling to concentrate as my teachers droned on about College Algebra, Life Science, Home Economics, American History, and other subjects I found just didn’t apply to my current train of thought. I worried about everything, hoping things would go well that night, that Marek’s wounds were healing, and how my family would react if they ever found out that he was a Shifter. Most of all, I wondered where we would be going on Saturday and what it was Marek did that was so important he couldn’t allow himself to rest and recover any longer.

Mr. Flinn stopped me on my way out of American History. “How is he?” the professor asked eagerly.

Caught off guard, I dropped my book from where I was trying to cram it in my backpack. “Who?” I asked, bending down to retrieve it.

“The Shifter!” Mr. Flinn said, obviously trying to contain his enthusiasm.

I glanced around. No one was near. “Better, a lot better.”

Mr. Flinn nodded. “Good to hear. You take good care of him and let me know if you need anything okay?”

I couldn’t help but smile at his overwhelming cheer. “I’ll let you know. Thanks, Mr. Flinn.”

Seventh period came and went without anything even remotely related to Home Economics sinking in. I slung my backpack over one shoulder and threw the books I didn’t need into my locker. Before I knew it, I had crossed the first parking lot and the junkie lot by the abandoned grocery store and was making my way through the small alley that led to the other school parking lot.

I hurried faster, suddenly aware of where I was. Was that the scuff of a shoe behind me? I didn’t dare look. I was about to make a run for the dusky sunlight at the end of the alley when a hand grabbed my backpack and spun me around.

“What do we have here?” It was a man who spoke, not one of the teenage dropouts from the junkie lot.

I slipped out of my backpack straps and backed up slowly. A footstep told me that way was blocked as well. I stopped and glanced behind me. Two more, one a grown man and another a teen who looked scared to be there but couldn’t think of a way out without looking like a coward, blocked the way to the second lot.

“There’s nowhere to run.”

My heart pounded in my throat. I looked up at the man, then wished I hadn’t. He wore a dark, greasy coat that was torn and smelled as if it had been fished out of a sewer. The man’s head was shaved and tattooed, but he wasn’t muscular like I would have expected from the depths of his voice. He was skinny and had a cruel gleam in his eyes as if he was watching a bug squirm under the piercing glare of a magnifying glass and enjoyed it.

He snapped a finger and two more men made their way up the alley from the junkie lot. They looked tough and worn. I guessed them to be AWOL soldiers who’d had enough of guarding the borders. The replacement of the Falconans and the shaky economy had put many men in the same position. Now, it seemed, it was time to take what they wanted.

I started to shake. I reached in my pocket, but the knife wasn’t there. I had forgotten to look for it at the tree house last night. Somehow, the tiny blade always seemed like protection, if a flimsy one. Without it, I didn’t stand a chance. With it, I probably wouldn’t either, but at least it gave me something to hide behind.

My knees felt like butter and I tried to keep still despite a pit in my stomach that made me feel like I was about to throw up. Footsteps. They were coming closer. I backed up to the alley wall and tried to sink into it, to be anywhere but here. I couldn’t look at them. I wanted to scream, but knew that no one who cared could hear me.

A hand touched my arm and I shrank away. “Come on now, sweetie. We won’t hurt you. Much.” A cruel laugh sounded, followed by others. One, though, ended in a choking scream. A low rumble and cursing filled the alley.

I looked up just as the man by the second lot crashed into the alley wall and collapsed to the ground. The skinny man next to me swore and ran toward the attacker, a knife held out. Marek stepped swiftly to the side and spun, catching the man and hurling him into the dirt with his momentum.

The two men from the other side both rushed at Marek. He ducked the first one’s punch and spun as he dropped, kicking the man behind the legs and lay him flat on his back. A quick fist to the jaw silenced him.

The skinny man rose as Marek blocked a series of punches from the other man. Marek jumped back when the man pulled out a butterfly knife and flipped it open. The two men advanced on him, knives drawn. I could only watch, stunned, as Marek dodged a thrust, then disarmed the skinny man with a quick snap of his wrist that sent the man whimpering to the ground holding his arm to his chest.

The second man tried to catch Marek off guard with a slice at his stomach. Marek darted to the side and kicked high to send the knife flying. The man then dove at him and they both tumbled to the ground. Before I could think of anything to do, Marek was back on his feet with a knee in the man’s back and his arms around the man’s neck. He started to squeeze, his jaw clenched and eyes golden. The man’s struggling slowed as he fought for breath. Marek glanced up and caught my eyes.

A muscle in his jaw twitched. He slowly released his hold and backed up. The man lay there gasping, smart enough not to move. Marek rose and walked toward me, his eyes changing from gold to blue as he drew near. He knelt next to me, his eyes stormy with concern. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

I wanted to answer, but couldn’t make my voice work past the knot in my throat. If he hadn’t been there. . . . A chill ran down my spine and I felt tears slide down my cheeks.

“Kyla,” Marek said quietly. I buried my head against his shoulder and sobbed, suddenly afraid of everything but him. “It’s okay to cry,” he whispered. He smoothed my hair and I could feel the bandages on his right hand catching the knots.   His heart beat quickly under my ear. The sound of it comforted me and slowed my tears. “You’re okay. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said. His voice was gentle and calm as if he spoke to a frightened animal.

The thought of an animal reminded me of Dad. I sat up. “Dad’s going to be worried about me. I’m late to the clinic.”

Marek sat back on his heels and studied me. “Are you sure you’re alright? They didn’t hurt you?”

I shook my head and stood, wobbling slightly on legs that felt like they were suddenly made of jelly. Marek rose quickly and steadied me. “Whoa now. Take it easy. You’ve been through a lot.”

He glanced back and I followed his gaze to where the men were helping each other out of the alley. “They won’t be back,” he said in a satisfied tone. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. It was my knife. “You must have dropped this the other night.” He set it in my hand. “You could have used it.” He reached down and picked up my backpack.

I tried to smile. “I could have pretended to use it, but probably wouldn’t have gotten far.” I turned and we walked slowly out of the alley. The sudden sunlight after the darkness of the alleyway felt like heaven on my face and calmed my nerves.

“You’d have given them a reason not to mess with you. That’s all they needed,” Marek replied seriously.

“Well, you gave them a reason not to mess with anyone, anywhere. The world just got a bit safer,” I replied.

“Then it’s been a life worth living,” Marek replied with a grin. He set my backpack down by the car and grimaced.

My eyes widened. “Your stitches! You shouldn’t have- let me see your side.”

Marek opened his mouth to protest, but at the look in my eyes, he carefully lifted up his shirt. Blood showed through the bandages. Marek touched the cloth, then gritted his teeth.

I fumbled for the car keys in the side pocket of my backpack. I opened the door for Marek and he lowered himself slowly onto the front seat. I hurried to the other side. “You really need to go to a hospital,” I said worriedly.

Marek rested his head against the headrest much the way he had on our first day. “You know I can’t do that. I’ll be fine.”

“Fine?” I stared at him for a moment before starting up the car. “You’ve probably torn out all of your stitches because you were trying to save me.” My voice caught, but I didn’t let the tears come.

“It was a worthy cause,” he replied. I glanced over and saw the teasing smile on his face though his eyes were shut.

I started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. “How did you find me, anyway?” I asked after a moment of driving.

“Scent,” he replied. He opened his eyes and glanced at me. “Everything gives off a unique smell, even cars have their own individual scent. I followed yours to the school, then tracked where you usually walk.”

The thought was embarrassing. “You tracked my smell?”

A shadow of a smile touched his lips. “Definitely one of the better scents I’ve followed.”

I didn’t know what to say. “I, uh-”

Marek cut me off, suddenly apologetic. “You’ve been through a lot. I shouldn’t give you a hard time.” He took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “Besides, I don’t have the energy to argue.” He closed his eyes again.

I pulled up to the clinic a few minutes later. Marek walked with me to the door. A glance inside showed a full waiting room. “Let’s go around back. If you’ve torn the stitches, the bleeding might be worse than we think.”

Marek followed me around the side of the building, then stopped me before I could open the other door. “I think I’ll wait out here.”

Surprised, I glanced through the window he was looking at, then stared. A Falconan, armed with their normal artillery of hand guns and knives, stood at the front desk questioning Dad. I had seen Falconans before, but usually from a distance. This one towered over Dad who was six feet tall. The Falconan had long black hair and sharp black eyes that saw everything.

He was constantly looking around, checking out anything in his sight. He wore the standard black pants, grey shirt, and black military vest complete with a Falconan badge. The vest looped in the back like a harness and straps ran up his black wings to secure a very deadly looking set of blades at his wing joints. I realized that had probably been what injured Marek in the first place.

The people and animals in the waiting room seemed wary, quiet, and unsure as to why a Falconan was questioning their vet. Dad, on the other hand, looked as cool and calm as always. He answered the questions in his normal short, precise way. Though I couldn’t hear what was said, the Falconan seemed satisfied. He gave a short nod, then turned and walked out of the clinic. He had to hold his wings tight to his back in order to get through the door. Those in the waiting room gave him a wide berth; even Yapper, Mrs. Finch’s miniature poodle, kept quiet until he was gone.

“It’s clear,” I breathed to Marek before pushing open the door. Dad saw us and nodded amiably. He mouthed ‘in a minute’, before turning to help Roger complete the intake for old Ms. Pembleton’s new kitten, one of a hundred new kittens she had brought in over the years to get fixed and get its shots. As an elderly widow, she viewed her many cats as family and took better care of them than some mothers did their own children. Ms. Pembleton waved at me and I waved back distractedly.

I took Marek into the tiny break room in the back. It had once been a storage closet, but when Dad expanded the clinic, there suddenly appeared a table, three lawn chairs, and a tiny refrigerator that barely fit three cans of soda comfortably. Marek sat down almost immediately. I was about to check his wound again when Dad walked in. Marek grew still.

“Strange afternoon,” Dad said as he pulled up a chair. He nodded at Marek. “Good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” Marek replied. He glanced at me.

“So, um, Dad,” I said as nonchalantly as possible. “We saw a Falconan at the desk.

Dad nodded. “Yeah, he scared the patients walking in here without warning. They don’t need that.”

“What did he want?” I pressed. Marek threw me a look of caution.

Dad rubbed his eyes tiredly, then glanced at Marek. “Someone like you, actually, except that he had golden eyes. At least, that’s how the Falconan described him; just under six feet, black hair, athletic build, and with golden eyes.”

“What did you tell him?” I could see Marek’s hands clenched into fists under the table, his knuckles white. He looked past me at the wall as if he could see the Falconan through it.

Dad chuckled. “I told him that if I saw someone with golden eyes, I’d remember, and I hadn’t, so I didn’t.” He thought back. “He didn’t seem to like my response, but I didn’t like him coming into my clinic unannounced. Aren’t there supposed to be laws against that? Something about privacy?”

Marek shook his head. “It’s a public place. The laws only apply to homes unless the government sends them after you.” Dad and I stared at him. Marek realized what he had just said and stood up as smoothly as possible. “Well, Kyla, I’ll see you in a while. Thanks for showing me your dad’s clinic. Goodbye, Mr. March.”

“Goodbye, Marek. We look forward to having you over tonight,” Dad replied.

Marek nodded. “Thank you, sir.” He turned and left through the door.

Dad stared after him, his expression thoughtful. “You know,” he said after a moment. “I really like him. None of the bravado most boys his age put off.” He smiled at me. “The Briggsby’s schnauzer is having puppies, and I could use some help.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but realized that if I left now, he would know I was going with Marek. We couldn’t afford to have him become concerned, especially after the Falconan’s visit. Maybe the schnauzer’s delivery would be a short one.

After work, I climbed quickly up the ladder, my pockets stuffed full of supplies. Shotzy’s delivery had taken longer than I hoped, and I had no idea what state I would find Marek in after the fight, or even if he made it back without the Falconans finding him.

It was dark inside the tree house and my eyes took longer than I had patience for to adjust to the dim light. I couldn’t see Marek on the bed. “Marek?” I wanted to kick myself for sounding so timid, but he didn’t respond. “Marek?” I said louder, stepping off the ladder.

I could make out a form lying on the blanket. I knelt next to him, my heart pounding for the third time that day. He lay on his good side facing me, his eyes closed. His unruly hair hung in front of his eyes. I hesitated, then brushed it back slowly. His forehead was damp with sweat. “Please wake up,” I whispered.

Marek opened his eyes slowly. He looked disoriented and shied from my touch, then he stared at my face and I watched awareness dawn in his eyes. He began to sit up, but I kept him down with a hand on his shoulder. “Stay still; let me check your side.” I couldn’t hide the relief in my voice that he was awake and that he remembered me. I pulled his shirt up gently, then shook my head when I saw the bandage soaked red with blood.

“That bad, huh?” Marek leaned on one elbow to see, then let himself back down. “I feel lightheaded. I’ve never slept deep enough for someone to walk up on me.”

“You’ve lost a lot of blood over the past three days. You should have gone to the hospital.” I tried to keep the worry out of my voice as I cut through the bandages. He was definitely groggy, and had walked here from the clinic in this shape.

“If I wanted to be found by the Falconans,” he said, gritting his teeth on the last word as I worked the caked bandages loose. “I would have gone to the hospital. That’s the first place they’d look, followed by the regular clinics, then the vets.”

“Which is why they were talking to my dad today.” My heart eased a little. I didn’t know what I would do if I had brought danger to my family. It helped to know the Falconan’s appearance was just part of a routine sweep. At least, I hoped it was.

Marek gasped when I pulled off the last bandage. Blood oozed between torn stitches at the edge of the gash closest to his stomach. A couple more had ripped through the middle, adding to the pooling blood. “You’ve torn through some of the stitches. They need to be fixed or it won’t heal properly.”

Marek glanced down at the wound and blood, then looked away as though he wished he hadn’t. “I’ve got to tell you, Kyla, I don’t think I can take more stitching right now.” He said it with a weary laugh, but I could tell it wasn’t a joke. The skin around the wound was red and raw, hot to the touch. Marek’s face was as pale as it had been when I first saw him. I didn’t know how to deal with the fact that he had survived so much and then gone through this for me.

I took off the gloves I was using and fumbled through the contents of my pockets. At the bottom of one, I pulled out the strips of butterfly bandages that my father used for shallow cuts or to reinforce stitching. “I’ll try these. The main stitches are still in place, and these will help to hold it shut and stop the bleeding.” Marek nodded without a word. I noticed that though both fists were clenched, he kept them well away from his mouth. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

I cleaned the wound with wet wipes, bathed the area with rubbing alcohol, then attached the butterfly bandages. Marek didn’t make a sound, for which I felt guiltily grateful. If he had, I would have given up and gotten my father, unable to put him through more pain.

When I was done, Marek stood up slowly so I could bind the wound. He weaved slightly and I held his arm, afraid he would collapse. He hadn’t spoken since I began to tend the injury. He didn’t seem to have the energy to now, so I started in surprise when he said, “How much time until your family watches the movie?” His voice was quiet, tired. I finished the wrapping and he sat carefully on the edge of the bed holding his side.

“Soon,” I replied, glancing at my watch. I sat down next to him. “But you don’t have to go. You need to sleep and rest.”

“I’d like to go,” he replied. He was quiet for a moment, then said a bit louder as if it was important to him, “If it’s okay with you.”

My heart caught. I was at a loss for words and stumbled over my thoughts. “Marek, I owe you my life. I don’t know what those guys would have done, but I can imagine.” The memory I had kept pushed deep inside while I was at the clinic surfaced in full force and I started to shake. “You saved me from them and hurt yourself further.”

I couldn’t stop trembling. Tears rolled down my cheeks at the terror of that moment, the touch of the skinny man’s hand on my arm, the gloom of the alleyway, the sound of footsteps behind me. I shook my head, suddenly afraid of the darkness in the tree house.

Marek’s arms encircled me. I buried my head against his chest and cried. I had never been so frightened before, and had never realized how truly defenseless I was in a situation like that. Marek didn’t say anything. He held me as I cried, my tears soaking his blood-stained shirt. He arms held me securely. He was safe, familiar, and trustworthy. My tears slowed and sobs eased. I could feel him breathing and heard his heartbeat. I was safe.

I took a calming breath, then sat back, wiping my face with my sleeve. I was embarrassed by the outburst of emotion. The event had frightened me more than I realized. “I’m sorry,” I apologized, avoiding his eyes. “It just scared me pretty bad.”

Marek nodded. “I’ve been pretty scared myself. Sometimes I just want to shift into a wolf, run away, and never look back.” He looked out the window at the sun setting behind the trees.

“Why don’t you?” I asked quietly.

Marek’s brow creased and he ran the fingers of his left hand along the bandages on the right. “There’s too much depending on me staying, too much to take care of.” He glanced at me. “You don’t understand now, but tomorrow you will. Or at least, I hope you will.”

I looked down at the wound now covered by his shirt. “Are you sure you can go tomorrow? Are you strong enough?”

He gave me a half-smile. “I don’t have much of a choice. I’m needed there.” He stood slowly, his footing unsteady. “We’d better get down soon or I won’t make it past the ladder.”

I nodded and led the way. I wanted to argue with him, to make him stay and sleep to regain his strength, but there was something in his eyes when he spoke of where he needed to be. He truly had to leave, and nothing could stop him. Whatever it was, it had helped him survive this far. I shook my head. He had too much on his shoulders for someone our age. He needed a break, and I suddenly understood that was what tonight was.

He followed me slowly down the ladder. I heard his breath catch at each step. When we reached the bottom, he followed me across the lawn to the garage where I ruffled through the Salvation Army bag for another shirt. I threw the old one back into the box, hoping no one would recognize Marek’s clothing as Dad’s old castaways.

Kip jumped up from the couch when we walked through the front door. “Marek, great! Let’s choose a movie!”

Marek followed him to the closet where we kept the DVDs. The instant we set foot in the house, any sign of his pain or discomfort vanished. His strength amazed me. “Any requests?” he asked over his shoulder. At the sound of his voice, Fellow ran into the room, pranced at Marek’s feet for a second, then sat down attentively waiting for attention.

Mom came in a few seconds later. “Anything but Indiana Jones or Star Wars. As Kyla said, I think we’ve seen one of them every month for the past fourteen years.”

“Oh, Mom,” Kip grumbled. Then he grinned. “As I recall, you think Obi Wan is handsome.”

I laughed when Mom shrugged and said, “Well, Star Wars isn’t all bad.”

“Oh, really,” Dad replied, walking through the living room door with a bowl of popcorn and a plate of Mom’s cookies.

This time, Mom laughed. “Don’t even try to pretend you don’t have a thing for Princess Leah.”

“Okay,” Dad replied. He sat the food on the coffee table and then made himself comfortable in his favorite corner of the couch. Mom settled in next to him and gave him a poke in the ribs.

Kip turn around, a DVD in hand and a pleased expression on his face. “We’ve decided on a movie,” he announced. He held it up with a flourish so everyone could see. “Die Hard.”

Marek grinned. “It’s got everything you need for a well-rounded movie night.”

“Oh, really,” I replied. “What’s that?” I enjoyed the way his smile softened the edge of his jaw and the constant searching of his eyes. Standing by Kip, he looked like just another teenager, albeit a very handsome, confident, heart-stealing one. I kicked myself mentally.

“Action, adventure, romance, gunfights, blood, more gunfights,” he answered.

“Where’s the romance?” I teased.

Marek’s blue eyes twinkled when he winked at me. “It’s all about a man saving his estranged wife from a band of terrorists. That’s pretty romantic, if you ask me.”

Mom laughed. “I’ve never thought of Die Hard as romantic, but John McClane’s pretty cute.”

“Oh, really,” Dad teased. She poked him in the ribs again to silence him while Kip got the movie started.

I settled next to Mom and offered for us to squish together so Marek could fit, but he shook his head. “Thanks, but I’ve always liked the floor.” He eased down so that he lay sideways at our feet on the thick beige carpet. Mom handed him several pillows for his head. Fellow settled in next to him. His tail wagged when Marek petted his head.

Marek was pale, but if he was in pain, he hid it well. The only sign he gave of the rough past couple of days was the quantity of water he drank. I refilled his cup four times on the pretense of adding ice to my own. I knew his thirst was from the loss of blood. He tried to stay alert, but he looked tired, extremely tired. I thought back to how he saved me in the alley, then shook my head, shying away from the memories even as the remembered terror made a lump in my throat.

I watched the movie, but my mind wasn’t on it. I found myself studying the back of Marek’s head. His wavy black hair hung unkempt to just above his shoulders, as if he hadn’t had time to cut it for a while. I wondered about being part wolf, how it must feel when someone is chasing you, having to constantly look over your shoulder. Most of all, I tried to figure out what it was he had to go back to so urgently that he could only allow himself this brief rest, not even long enough to heal.

At the end of the movie, he still laid there, asleep. Fellow dozed in the crook of his elbow, his black muzzle on Marek’s arm. “Who falls asleep during Die Hard?” Kip asked incredulously.

“He looked tired when he came in,” Mom replied. She put a blanket over him, motherly concern on her face.

“I should wake him up,” I said. I really didn’t want to, knowing how badly he needed the sleep, but I knew he couldn’t stay. “We have a field trip to a museum tomorrow.”

“A museum. That sounds fun,” Mom replied.

“Which museum are you going to?” Dad asked. I could see him debating whether he could go with the class on the pretense of acting as a chaperon.

“The Museum of Natural History,” I replied, knowing it wasn’t one of his favorites.

“Oh. Well, have a good time. Do you think you’ll be home by dinner?”

I shrugged. “They didn’t say, but it is pretty far, so we’ll probably stop somewhere on the way home.”

“Do you need some money?” Dad pressed.

I shook my head. I saved most of the money I earned at the clinic, spending it only on books and the occasional wardrobe improvement.

“If you guys are going to the same place tomorrow, maybe we should just let Marek sleep here. He can go home in the morning and get ready, or borrow some of Kip’s clothes,” Mom offered as she gathered up the empty popcorn bowl and cookie tray.

Dad helped with half-finished soda cans and the chip bag. “He really did look tired. Just make sure you call his parents and let them know he’ll be spending the night.”

I tried not to look at Marek’s sleeping form, worried that the concern I felt for him would show on my face. “Whatever you think is best,” I said. I left the room with Mom and Dad behind me. Kip grabbed his blanket from the easy chair he had been using and followed us out.

Mom turned off the light. She acted like she was going to call Fellow, then changed her mind. “Fellow sure likes him,” I heard her say to Dad as they made their way up the stairs to bed.

“Dogs are a pretty good judge of character,” Dad replied with a yawn. Their door shut, then Kip’s followed.

I wandered through the kitchen straightening odds and ends before making my way toward the stairs to go to my own room. When I passed the living room, I was surprised to see Marek standing in the darkness folding the blanket Mom had put over him.

“You don’t have to go,” I said, suddenly shy. I didn’t understand why it felt so different to be there with him in the dark after all we had gone through.

Marek shook his head, the light from the hallway behind me reflecting in his weary eyes. “I appreciate everything you’ve done, but my presence puts your family in danger. I shouldn’t have come here at all, let alone fallen asleep.” He sounded angry at himself.

He sighed and shook his head. “It’s just the safest I’ve felt in a very long time.” At that moment he looked laid bare and vulnerable, like he had no more walls and he knew it. He held my gaze for a moment, then turned away and put the blanket on the couch. It took him a long time to turn back around. When he did, his eyes were unreadable once more. “I’ll meet you tomorrow at eight by the library, if you still want to go. That way, your parents won’t see me leave the tree house.”

I nodded. “I’ll be there. Do you need anything?”

Marek shook his head again, but I caught the briefest smile on his lips. “I’ll be fine, thank you.”

I watched him bend down slowly to give Fellow a last pat, then he turned and made his way to the front door. He gave me a short wave, then was gone.

Chapter 14- Marek

I kicked at a clump of grass, angry at myself for falling asleep at the Marchs’. Kyla didn’t seem to mind, but she didn’t know what would happen if the Falconans found us. The rational part of my mind reminded me that there was nothing to link me to Kyla, nothing for the Falconans to follow, but it did nothing to ease the tension that ran through my body. It was never that cut and dry when it came to the Falconans.

I paused at the base of the ladder and debated whether to expend the energy it would take to climb to the top. The temptation to spend the night under the trees in the soft grass called to me, but the thought of being found asleep in the open, especially with how deep I had been sleeping, sent me up the ladder.

I swallowed the last pill in the cup on the table, then sat on the bed. The thought of leaving the next day sent a small shard of regret through me and I smiled. I liked the tree house, as simple and solitary as it was. There was something welcoming in the dark corners and the song of the wind through the eaves. The wolf side of me likened it to a den, a small, cozy space hidden against the dangers of the world.

But I was anxious to get back. I could only hope everything was alright. I settled back on the blankets and closed my eyes, willing the worry in my chest to ease. The sooner I made it home, the better for everyone, the Marchs especially.

I debated whether taking Kyla was a good idea, but I owed her for everything she had done and it was the best way I could think of to repay her. Something deep down inside of me wanted her to see what I did. I needed her to know I was a good person. She would leave and go back to her old life anyway, but at least she would know that helping me wasn’t a bad thing. I never wanted her to regret what she had done.

Chapter 15- Kyla

Marek was waiting patiently next to the library as planned. When I picked him up, he accepted the sausage biscuit I handed him with a good-natured smile. He ate it while directing me to the roughest part of town, the Downs. I had never been to the Downs before, but driving past the unspoken perimeter was enough to make my heart pound. I glanced sideways, wondering if Marek could hear it. Driving slowly, I had to keep reminding myself to loosen my grip on the steering wheel. If we were killed, at least they would be able to identify me from the finger imprints.

Graffiti littered the walls in huge sweeps, signs, gang symbols, and graphic pictures depicting the horrors the war had brought upon us spread as far as I could see. Garbage flowed from the alleyways along with several cats and a few other creatures I didn’t take the time to identify. We passed a group of men standing near a corner; a shudder ran down my spine at the way they eyed my car.

“Park at this garage,” Marek said when I had all but decided we were driving to a certain and immediate death. “We’ll have to leave the car where it’ll be safe.”

Unwilling to argue the definition of ‘safe’ in the Downs, I did as he instructed. I hid all important belongings under the seat and moved to get out of the car when Marek touched my arm. I looked at him, wondering what was coming next. “Kyla, before we get there, I want you to know that if things get too weird, too intense, or way out of your comfort zone, you can walk away without a guilty conscience. You’ve already done more than anyone could ask for.”

I nodded even though just being in the Downs was already way outside of my comfort zone.

Marek gave a small smile as if he guessed my thoughts, then he became even more serious. His eyes held mine, urging me to understand the importance of what he was saying. “I need you to know that the reverse is also a must. If I feel any of this is too dangerous for you, I must be able to ask you to walk away and know that you’ll listen.”

My heartbeat quickened. Where were we going?

“I can’t take you in if you don’t agree,” Marek said quietly.

I hesitated, then nodded. I knew I could trust him.

“Alright,” Marek said. He opened his door.

It was a long walk from where we parked the car to our destination. Marek looked like he was in deep thought, so I didn’t break the silence. The morning air smelled thick and old as we walked between buildings baked a dusky tan by the sun. The few people who were out took one look at Marek and vanished like dust in the early breeze. A pit bull growled and trotted toward us, then turned suddenly into a side alley.

I studied Marek. He seemed so calm here, so in control. I had to remind myself that we were in the Downs; no one was in control in the Downs. There were so many killings at night the police had finally declared it outside of their jurisdiction. Even the Falconans seldom went this deep into the city.

Movement in the sky above us caught my attention. Glancing up, I saw a lone black bird circling the air over what look like an abandoned warehouse. The building had once been painted white, but over the years the paint had peeled and never been properly scraped and refinished. Dusty broken windows looked like missing teeth in a skeletal smile.

As we made our way toward the building, the bird suddenly tucked its wings close to its body and dove. I feared it would hit the roof. It disappeared from view without opening its wings to slow its descent.

“Through here.”

Marek’s quiet voice brought my attention back to where we stopped. He had pulled open a side door to the warehouse and was ushering me into the dark interior. I glanced one more time at the roof, then stepped inside.

It took a few minutes for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Fingers of sunlight filtered through the broken windows to reveal an assortment of dusty machinery and abandoned tools. Unbidden, Marek took my hand and guided me through the maze as though he could see flawlessly in the half-light.

“What is this stuff?” I asked in a whisper. The age and undisturbed stillness of the ancient machines made it feel like we were walking through a cemetery or a museum.

Marek’s voice was hushed as well when he replied, “Many of the warehouses in Charlton shut down during the war. Most were never reopened as people reprioritized their needs. Safety came before the frillery and surplus of what was modern day living. When people start to feel safer within the closed border, life began to return to somewhat normal, but everyone learned a valuable lesson. Stuff means nothing if you don’t have your safety and that of your family.” He helped me over a large ramp. “That’s why they accepted the idea of the Falconans so easily. It was worth that kind of infringement on their freedom to feel safe. I only hope as things return closer to normal, they’ll begin to realize how dearly that freedom was bought.”

We had stopped walking. He pointed to the ground at my feet. I stepped back and saw the faint outline of a rectangle roughly the size of a door mat. Marek crouched down and put his hands on the two corners closest to him. A faint hum sounded, then the panel fell in slightly and slid noiselessly to the side. I stared in amazement.

Marek led the way down a steep ramp. The panel slid shut behind us, but just when I feared we would be left in the dark, faint blue lights appeared in a row on either side to line the path. I tried not to look as surprised as I felt, but when Marek glanced back, there was a shadow of a smile on his face.

I followed him to a solid metal door. Marek put his hand on a brick to the side of the frame that looked like every other brick lining the ramp; the door opened with a slight groan. My eyes widened at the view before me.

A room bigger than the vast warehouse above us spread out below a platform just outside the door. It looked as if it had once been underground storage for the warehouse, but had been turned into something far different. From our high perch, I could see various rooms, the main one of which was filled with electronic equipment, computer monitors, and a multitude of televisions. Most of the other rooms were designed as sleeping quarters for at least two dozen people. In the far corner, I could make out what looked like an assortment of motorcycles.

“You coming?” Marek’s eyebrows were raised as though finding a fortress under an abandoned warehouse shouldn’t surprise me. I caught a faint, teasing gleam in his blue eyes. “Welcome to the Den,” he said. We passed through the door and he led the way down the stairs into a small room.

As soon as Marek set a foot on the floor, a door to our right opened and two boys dove at him. He expected it and flipped the first one into an ungraceful heap against the wall. The second, Marek spun with the force of the boy’s momentum into the first. He turned back in a crouch, but was a second too late to avoid being tackled by a black-haired young man with a reckless grin.

Marek grunted as he impacted the floor. I stood quietly on the last step. By the looks on all of their faces, this was a common tradition. I worried about Marek’s stitches, but knew enough about boys not to mention it.

A movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. A door to the left had opened and a brawny, tawny-haired man leaned against the door, his well-muscled arms crossed as he watched the young men brawl. A young girl, roughly five with white-blonde, chin-length hair, peeked out from behind the man’s legs. She stared at me, her dark eyes wide.

In the end, the four boys were a laughing tangle of arms and legs. Marek worked his way free and rose smoothly. If his side hurt, he hid it well.

The little girl in the doorway ran to him, her bare feet making no sound on the concrete floor. Marek knelt and scooped her up. She buried her head against his shoulder, holding him tight. I couldn’t help but smile. “It’s okay, sweetheart; I’m home,” Marek said soothingly. The little girl seemed so tiny and fragile; she held onto Marek like she would never let go again.

Marek glanced at me as if suddenly remembering I was there. He tipped his head to indicate me in a way that made me remember his wolf side. “Pack, this is Kyla. She’s trustworthy.”

One of the two younger boys that I guessed to be about Kip’s age looked me over suspiciously. “How do you know we can trust her?” he asked quietly. He had strange dark gray hair and sky blue eyes that made him look older than he was. I tried to give him a reassuring smile.

“Take my word on it, Shadow. She can be trusted.” Marek set the little girl down slowly. She grabbed onto the hem of his shirt and stood close to him, watching me shyly. “She saved my life,” Marek concluded with an embarrassment that surprised me.

The brawny man at the door walked toward us, his gait smooth and rolling. There was a grace about him that belied his size and muscles. “You were saved by a girl?” he asked with a grin. Marek’s embarrassment suddenly made sense.

I tried to save his dignity. “Not a girl, a woman,” I said chidingly. Everyone looked at me. I forced a smile on my face and put a hand on one hip.

The brawny man said, “Oh man!” Everyone started to laugh. He stepped forward and held out his hand. “Thanks for saving Marek.” My hand was lost in his when we shook. My racing heartbeat slowed and I smiled at the others.

“We were worried he wasn’t coming home this time,” the man said.

Marek was sober when he answered, “I almost didn’t. Ras nearly ended me.”

The black-haired young man with the reckless grin nodded at Marek’s bandaged hand. “What happened there?” I guessed he was just a bit older than Marek.

“Well,” Marek flexed his right hand, making the bandages tighten. “I did this myself.”

The boys laughed, but grew quiet when Marek lifted his shirt and showed them the other bandages. “But a Falconan did this. Kyla stitched me up in her dad’s vet clinic. She’s a fair hand with a needle and thread.”

There was gratitude on the boys’ faces when they looked back at me. I felt my cheeks grow red.

Marek indicated the brawny man that I guessed to be about thirty, the oldest of the group. “Kyla, this is Phoenix.” He gave me a solemn nod. Marek continued, “These two rascals are Shadow and Flint.” He gestured to the two younger boys. Shadow, the dark grey-haired one, dipped a mock bow, while Flint seemed more shy and reserved. He had dark brown hair and was about a head taller than Shadow. He merely watched me, his eyes cautious. Marek waved a hand at the black-haired boy who now stood back by the door. “That’s Raven, our watchman.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Raven said with a grin and a short nod. He leaned against the door frame with lithe ease, his body thin and slender.

“And this,” Marek said, smoothing the little girl’s hair as she hid behind him. “This little angel is Whisper. She’s the noisy one,” he said with a wink. The other boys laughed good-naturedly while Whisper buried her head against Marek’s leg. Her white-blonde hair hid her face from view. She looked very frail, as if a gust of wind could carry her off.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” I said.

“Do you have a family?” Whisper asked in the silence that followed; her voice was soft and barely audible.

I nodded. “I do. Maybe you could meet them sometime.” I didn’t know why I offered, but it seemed like the right thing to say. Whisper’s eyes widened at the invitation and she nodded. Marek gave me a small smile.

“So it was Ras?” Phoenix asked, his eyes narrowing.

“We hate Ras,” Shadow said in conspiratorial tones, falling in beside me. Marek led the way through the left door and down a hall to the main room I had seen from above.

“Why is that?” I asked the question the boy was obviously waiting for.

“He’s the Captain of the Falconans. He’s been trying to kill us since Marek escaped us.”

“Helped us escape,” the black-haired boy, Raven, said from behind.

“Same thing,” Shadow shot back. Flint, walking on the other side of me, just shook his head and shrugged wordlessly.

“Anyway,” Raven took over the story despite the glare Shadow shot him. “What Shadow’s trying to say is that Ras and Marek have been at each other’s throats since we got here. Ras wants to kill him and bring us all back.”

“Back where?” I asked. The boys just exchanged looks as if the place was too horrible to talk about.

“It’s a good thing you’re here,” I overheard Phoenix say to Marek. “They’re bringing a truckload in tonight. They’ve been gathering Lost for a few weeks now.”

Marek nodded, pushed open the door they had reached, and held it so everyone could enter. I paused at the entrance to the main room. “This is what we do,” Marek told me quietly.

The computers I had seen from above were set along tables covered in what looked like charts and blueprints. Televisions on mute showed various local news stations across the United States. I could see broadcasts from Delaware, Florida, Colorado, and California from where I stood. Multiple white boards hung along the entire length of one long wall and were covered in a variety of diagrams and colors that would have been the envy of Professor Flinn. “What’s all this?” I asked in awe.

“You’ll see,” Marek replied evasively. He motioned for me to enter, then followed. Whisper clutched his hand on the side farthest from me.

Marek walked through, in his element and in charge. I was in his territory now. He went directly to a table in the middle of the room. Two computers showed maps of an area of the city I wasn’t familiar with. The first computer’s map had a path outlined that came from outside the city. The second showed a close-up of a certain row of streets not far from the Downs. Marek studied the streets. “This is the best spot?”

Flint nodded without speaking. Shadow shrugged at me with the bluntness of youth. “Don’t mind him. He doesn’t say much, or anything, for that matter.”

Marek winked at Flint. “We like the strong, silent types. Flint’s the brains of our group.” He glanced back at Raven, who was perusing a list printed on a sheet of paper. “What time are we talking about?”

Raven looked at the map, then back at his list. “They should be there by one a.m., if all goes as planned. I have a feeling the Lost’ll be heavily guarded thanks to last time.”

“Good,” Phoenix said from behind us. I turned to see him cleaning a handgun with a gray cloth. “We’ll be ready.”

Surprised at how casually he held the weapon, I looked back at Marek and found him watching me, gauging my reaction to the gun. “You can go back now and pretend like you never came here. There’s still time for that.” His tone was soft but firm. This would be my last chance.

“What are the Lost?” I asked in reply. I avoided looking at the gun.

I could hear the approval in Marek’s voice. “Let me take you on a tour while I explain.”

I followed him through a door at the end of the room to a hall that led past the rooms of beds. A saying had been painted in caligraphied letters along the wall. ‘Like the creeper that girdeth the tree trunk, the Law floweth forward and back. For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack.’

I smiled. “Rudyard Kipling, isn’t it?”

Marek nodded, giving me an appraising glance. “You know your literature.”

I shrugged. “I’ve always liked the Jungle Book. I grew up wanting to run away and live with wild animals.” I stopped short, realizing what I had just said.

Marek didn’t seem to notice. “Raven put it up there when we first found this place. Sort of prophetic, I guess you could say. He’s always liked the idea of us being a pack, led by a wolf and all.” He looked self-conscious now that we were alone. Turning away, he opened the gate to an old lift and motioned for me to enter.

“You’re in charge of them and take care of them?” I asked, amazed and a bit daunted by the responsibilities he carried. No wonder he had to get back.

Marek stepped up beside me and closed the gate. “There was no one else to do it,” he explained simply. He pushed the button to raise the lift.

It started with a jerk that caught me off guard. I grabbed Marek’s arm to steady myself, then let go, feeling foolish. I avoided his eyes and turned my attention to the warehouse as the lift carried us up. Raven and Flint worked on the computers. I could see Shadow in the small kitchen off the main room. Phoenix was grouping objects that looked like more guns on a table in the big room.

I searched for Whisper and found her in one of the sleeping areas. The room had been painted a soft purple and was full of toys and anything a little girl could want. She sat on her fluffy bed and watched us on the lift, her arms around a big stuffed dog that occupied half the bed. I waved. Whisper hesitated, then waved back. They disappeared from view as the lift carried us through the main floor and towards the roof. We rose slowly through a hatch that opened at our approach.

“Flint and Shadow got bored one day and thought this would be a helpful lookout,” Marek said. Surprised, I examined the gears; it looked complicated. I wondered how two boys my brother’s age could design something so complex, but Marek didn’t seem to think it was unusual. The lift stopped at roof level. A morning breeze brushed around us, sending a pile of debris swirling in a small eddy.

Marek helped me off the lift and walked to the edge of the roof. I looked around quickly to verify that the bird I had seen earlier hadn’t splattered itself nearby, then joined him by the edge. A million questions chased themselves through my mind. “What do you want to know?” Marek asked quietly as if he could read my thoughts.

I fought back a smile and tried to focus. I asked what I felt to be the stupidest question first. “Are they all Shifters?”

Marek nodded. He answered a few more of my questions with his reply. “Galbran was going to kill us, so I escaped and brought Raven with me. When we found this place, we went back and freed everyone who would come with us.”

“Who would come?” I repeated, confused. I wondered why anyone would stay behind at the threat of death.

Marek was silent for a moment. He studied the bandage on his hand. When he continued, his voice was soft as if it pained him to think back. “Galbran was like a father to us, or at least, convinced us he cared about us. I was at the labs for four years, and he was the one who helped us through the experiments and testing. He designed our combat training, and convinced us we would be great leaders.”

Marek clenched his good hand over his injured one until the knuckles turned white. “Raven’s the one who overheard that we were considered a failed project and were to be destroyed to make way for the next one. When we told the others, most were ready to leave, but some still trusted Galbran and wouldn’t believe us. And there were others we couldn’t find.” He said the last sentence in a different tone, as if it affected him deeply but he was trying not to let it show.

I changed the subject. “Why do they have names like Raven or Phoenix, when your name, Marek, is, well, normal?”

Marek’s brow creased, but he gave me a small smile. “Most of those we freed from the labs didn’t remember their past. Everyone who wanted to could choose their own names.” Marek hesitated as if unsure he should continue. He looked out over the Downs, his blue eyes distant. He let out a breath. “I was different. I still remembered my past. When the scientists started out, they didn’t have many volunteers. They preferred kids for the experiments, and stole children from orphanages and hospitals. Others, though, they kidnapped.” He glanced over at my quick intake of air. I was horrified and he knew it.

He continued, “My brother and I had been dropped off at a movie theater by our parents, and we were supposed to meet them at the restaurant across the street when the movie was over. I was eight, and Shane, six. Mom and Dad put me in charge and told us not to loiter. When the movie was over, we were crossing the street when a black SUV cut us off. Four men jumped out, put bags over our head and pulled us into the vehicle. That was the last time I saw Shane. I’ve been looking for him ever since.”

I was quiet for so long he glanced at me, his expression guarded. I tried to process the information, but my mind refused to work past the horrible story. “Your poor family. Those awful things you had to go through. Did you find your parents when you got out to let them know you were okay?”

Marek’s expression darkened. He nodded. “Yeah, I found them. I was twelve and Raven fourteen when we escaped. After freeing as many of the others as we could, we helped them find places to go, people who would care for them no matter what they were. I finally had the chance to go home when we were done. I promised Raven I would return to the warehouse after getting settled in.”

He sighed. “My parents were so happy when I came home. There was a new baby, my little brother named Matthew. They asked about Shane, but I told them the truth, that I hadn’t been able to find him and feared he was dead. They welcomed me with open arms, until they saw the warnings on the news about escaped, dangerous Shifters.” He rubbed his eyes. “When they asked me, I told them the truth. I trusted them and their love for me.”

Marek fell silent. He glared at the building across from us, his face an expressionless wall. I set a hand on his arm. “What happened?” I whispered.

Marek spoke through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowed and unseeing. “My dad grabbed me and tried to hold me while Mom called the cops. I shifted, dove through the nearest window, and ran as far and as fast as I could. I never looked back.”

He straightened up and glanced at me sideways. “I know they were protecting Matthew, but it didn’t make it any easier. I came back here and we fought the Falconans while looking for Shane. With the Lost in the picture, we haven’t had much time to think about what we’re missing.” He studied the ground at his feet. “Or, at least, that’s what we keep telling ourselves.”

“What are the Lost?” I asked. I had a knot in my stomach. It obviously hadn’t been easy for him to tell me so much about himself and I had a million questions I wanted to ask, but I could tell he wanted to forget again. I didn’t know how I would have coped in the same situation. How did he keep fighting?

“Do you ever go to a post office, department store, or grocery store and see the pictures on the walls of the missing children?” I nodded, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten. “Since the war, the numbers have continued to rise. They blame it on terrorists, but the border is nearly impenetrable thanks to the Falconans. The government uses the lies as a way to keep up the support of their manufactured army. Only, it’s the government that kidnaps the kids. They need to keep up the testing. They’re trying to perfect the Falconans to create an invincible militia.”

I felt sick. “You mean they’re kidnapping children and turning them into Falconans?” Horror tightened my throat when Marek nodded.

“They use genetic mutation and age acceleration. By the time they’re done and brainwashed, they’re unrecognizable and don’t remember their past. Our goal is to free the kids and get them back to their homes before they reach the labs.”

My thoughts raced. The world I thought I lived in was crashing around my shoulders. I saw the false security of Falconan guarded streets and malls in the new light Marek had given me. They were not there so much for protection, but to pick off easy targets for experimentation and improvement to their kind.

I felt sick to my stomach. When I glanced at Marek, he looked tired as if telling me made the burdens he carried more real and terrible. “But you rescue them,” I reminded myself, not meaning to say it out loud.

Marek nodded. “We rescue who we can, but there are still those who slip through the cracks, and those we can’t find.”

“Like Shane?” I asked softly.

He nodded again without speaking. He leaned with his back against the wall, his eyes on the roof at our feet. He shook his head suddenly and raked his hair out of his eyes with one hand. “We’ll be leaving soon to scope out the area. Are you hungry?”

I realized I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast early that morning. The sun was hidden behind a building to the left, and my watch said four o’clock p.m. I couldn’t believe how fast time had gone. I stifled a sigh at the sudden growl from my stomach and nodded. Somehow, it seemed like something as normal as eating was too simple after what Marek had told me.

“Go back down the lift. The kitchen is on the left. I’m sure Shadow’s in there already. He’ll get you something.” Marek shook his head with a slight smile. “He’s always hungry. Growing boys, you know?”

I thought of Kip’s bottomless stomach and laughed. “Yeah, I know.” I made my way to the lift, then paused and turned back to Marek. “Aren’t you hungry?”

He shook his head, but gave me a smile that touched his eyes. “I’m okay. You go. I’ll be down in a while.”

I nodded. I wanted to stay, but did as he asked. I pushed the button on the lift and watched the roof rise past me.

Chapter 16- Marek

I waited until Kyla was out of sight, then allowed my knees to give way. I slid slowly to a half-crouched position with the wall at my back. I held my side and gritted my teeth.

I had hidden the pain from Kyla without thinking of it. I was back at home in the Den, and in charge. The others looked to me, and I had to be strong. I had never been able to show weakness because they looked to me for strength. I had always managed to protect them, to come out on top despite the odds.

But this time it was different. Ras had almost killed me, probably would have if I hadn’t hidden at the vet’s. It was too close. I thought of the kids below, of the pack that had become my family. A sudden desperation welled up and I buried my head in my free hand. My black hair hid my face from the sun, from the world.

It was too much. I had been doing this for too long. I worried about Shadow and Flint, even though they were older than I had been when I first escaped and found the warehouse with Raven. Raven was so trusting and looked up to me even though he was older. He trusted the wolf to protect them. Phoenix followed without question, older than us all, but more scarred as well.

Most of all, I worried about Whisper. I had been able to find most of the Shifters safe homes, those who weren’t able to return to, or didn’t remember, where they were from. A few had stayed behind, the boys, Phoenix, and Raven because of personal reasons that made them unable to go elsewhere. But Whisper was different. Whisper was unique.

I had found her two years ago on a break into the labs to search for Shane. We had freed most of the Shifters. I feared Galbran had kept his promise and killed the rest; deep down, I dreaded that was what happened to Shane, but I never stopped searching.

Instead of finding Shane, I noticed a small, overlooked cage in a back corner. If I hadn’t had the night vision of a wolf, I wouldn’t have seen her. As it was, I almost looked past the bundle curdled in a fetal position under a small, dirty blanket. I broke the lock with my crowbar and pulled the blanket aside. A toddler, petite and frail with wispy white-blond hair, hid her face and shrunk away from my touch. She had no clothes on and was the skinniest thing I had ever seen.

“Poor babe,” I remembered whispering. “How can they hurt the little ones?”

She must have heard something in my voice because she reached up and wrapped her arms tightly around my neck with more strength than I would have guessed she had with the state she was in. When I wrapped the blanket around her and picked her up, I was surprised at how light she was, lighter than any child her age should be. A medical binder sat on top of the bars with a number imprinted on the cover that matched the one on the cage. I took it and left as fast as I could.

Whisper seldom left my side for the first year, and hated being left alone when we went searching for the Lost. Eventually, Shadow and Flint came to the Den and never left, and she started to play with them and talk. Her voice was always so quiet, and when she shifted, which was very seldom, it was to the form of a beautiful, white, tiny bird I hadn’t been able to find in any bird book. The name Whisper had come naturally.

I had never been able to find her a home. From the notes in the medical binder, I learned that the bird Shifters had hollow bones, and that their fragility was one of the reasons the experiment was considered to have failed. When Raven learned that he was of the same build, he took to flying more and left the ground work to the others.

I couldn’t leave them. They all needed me and I couldn’t let them down. I almost had four days ago. I could take the pain, but I need to protect my pack. The Falconans were getting stronger, and though caution had saved us thus far, I knew eventually our luck would run out.

The image of Whisper curled up in the cage, shrinking from my touch, stayed in my mind. I had vowed to protect the Lost; that was my one duty and calling. I bowed my head and pushed myself slowly to a standing position. I held a hand against the throbbing pain brought by the movement and made my way carefully to the lift. As I waited for it to rise, a raven flew out of a large pipe that ran from the Den to the roof. I dropped my hand from my side and lifted my chin in a silent greeting.

Raven circled my head, then flew high into the sky until I lost him among the gathering clouds. I had often wondered what brought Raven back when he was so obviously free and alive in the air. A quick flash of lightning darted through the overcast sky followed by a loud crack of thunder. The raven flew down past me and into the pipe so fast that I would have missed it if I blinked.

Laughing, I stepped onto the lift and started downward. When I cleared the ceiling of the Den, I stopped my descent and surveyed my family. Phoenix and Flint were still organizing supplies for the evening run. I knew every vest would be checked, each gun triple-cleaned, the headsets tested, and the maps measured.

Lucky for us, Phoenix came to the pack knowing his stuff. He taught us his military expertise in exchange for a place to call home. Phoenix had been one of the few to actually enlist after the borders were closed. Unfortunately, they placed him in as a willing test subject. When Raven and I freed him on our first return to the labs, he was the only cougar Shifter experiment that had worked.

Ashamed of what he was and what his country had done to him, the Shifter couldn’t bring himself to return to his wife and two-year-old daughter. I found their address later on in files Flint hacked into and dropped off money to Phoenix’s wife as often as we could spare it. The first and last time I mentioned Phoenix ever going back, I had been lucky to escape with a black eye. His wife hadn’t remarried, and I wondered if she still waited for her AWOL husband. It broke my heart, but I couldn’t fight the defeat in Phoenix’s eyes, nor the man’s inability to come to terms with what his government had done to him.

Kyla was in the kitchen with Shadow, while Whisper peeked at her from the door frame and hid whenever Kyla smiled her way. I studied Kyla. She joked with Shadow as she helped spread tuna fish on slices of bread. She had braided her dark blonde hair, and tucked loose strands behind an ear in annoyance.

I knew I shouldn’t have brought her here, but there was something about her so refreshing and whole. Each member of the pack carried hurts and burdens not visible to the naked eye, and retreated into their pain in their own ways. Kyla, however, truly seemed like she wanted only to help. She cared, despite what we were. She had helped me when no one else would have, when the whole world had retreated and left me to die. She knew what I was, but still stayed.

I shook my head and pushed the button for the lift to descend. Kyla looked up and waved. I lifted a hand, my mind clouded. I knew I had trust issues. I had convinced myself long ago that there was no one I could entrust with my pack and what we did. Yet, here she was making sandwiches with Shadow. Something inside told me just to go with it, the same thing that made me bring her here. I didn’t know if it was faith or stupidity, or just the blind need to have someone else understand what we did, but she was here.

When I reached the bottom, Phoenix was waiting. “We’re ready to scope out the area.”

I glanced toward the kitchen where Kyla was. Phoenix followed my gaze. “I’ll take her home first.”

Phoenix surprised me by shaking her head. “I think she should come with us.”

I stared at him. “She could get hurt. It’s too dangerous.”

“She could also help,” he pointed out. At my look he rubbed his forehead. “Look, it might be nice to have an outsider see what we’re up to, and what we’re up against.”

“How could that help?” I asked, but his words made me think.

He shrugged. “Not sure, but I still think it’s a good idea.

I hated to admit it, but I wanted Kyla to go with us. I wanted her to see what we did and understand the truth about the Falconans. She trusted me, of that I was certain. The question was if I could trust her enough to let her into our lives the way she had allowed me into hers.

Chapter 17- Kyla

Marek took a shower and changed into a set of black clothes after coming down from the roof. The other Shifters were busy preparing for something; when I asked him what, he held me with his calm blue gaze. I wondered at the wildness in him that made his blue eyes turn gold. How did it feel to have an animal side? Did the wolf instincts drive him or did his human side dictate his actions?

He let out a slow breath. “We’re going to do something dangerous but necessary. I was going to take you home, but,” he hesitated, watching me carefully, “I want you to come along.”

My heart skipped sideways in my chest. The way he looked at me let me know he still questioned his decision and was leaving it up to me. The thought of him in danger again so soon after being injured turned my stomach. “Would I be able to help?” I asked.

His eyebrows lifted slightly and a shadow of a smile touched his lips. He nodded.

That made up my mind. “Then I’d like to go.”

A few minutes later, I was on the back of Marek’s motorcycle. He was quiet and collected, ready for the task ahead. He drove the bike as though it was a part of him, leading us as if he was a creature of the darkness speeding past. I held tightly to him as he weaved through the dark alleys of downtown Charlton. His muscles were tight through the black leather jacket he wore.

The others followed on similar motorcycles, each fitted with the new government approved exhausted systems that were now required on all engines to cut down on noise pollution. They also proved handy for stealth missions.

The rain that had started just before we left the Den hit my helmet visor like tiny bullets. Marek’s headlight was off and I wondered how he and the others could see in the darkness through the rain when all I saw were the dark shadows of buildings rushing by. Behind Marek, Shadow, Flint, Phoenix, and Raven rode on their own motorcycles. I tried to picture Kip on one, but couldn’t. He seemed so young compared to Shadow and Flint. I was glad he didn’t know this side of life, that he was carefree and didn’t have the haunted look of the hunted in his eyes.

It was past midnight, so most people were inside in obedience to the curfew. The few we saw were either homeless and trying to avoid being picked up by the Falconans, or prostitutes standing at the dark corners. The penalty for being homeless was prison confinement, and prostitution was punishable by on the spot execution, so I figured we must be deep downtown where the Falconans seldom went.

Marek led us to a dead-end alley where we left the bikes. Phoenix handed out the contents of his backpack. I was surprised when, after giving Marek and Raven pistols and keeping two for himself, he handed me a small Beretta. I glanced at Marek, who nodded. “We never know what we’re getting into; it’s better to be safe than sorry. Besides,” he said as he strapped his .45 into a built-in pouch on his bullet-proof vest, “Fewer Falconans is never a bad thing.”

Flint silently helped me adjust a small headset so I could hear Marek’s orders. The brown-haired boy’s hands shook slightly and he refused to meet my eyes; even so, he seemed less nervous than I felt. My lack of knowledge as to what I could expect in the next hour kept my eyes straying to the mouth of the alley in search of an attack.

Raven caught my glance. “Don’t worry,” he said with his reckless grin. “We’re the ones attacking.”

I nodded, feeling only slightly relieved. “You’ve done this a lot, I take it?”

Marek heard us from where he twisted a silencer onto his gun. “Raven’s had my back at every Lost bust we’ve done. Stick with him and you’ll be safe.”

Raven gave me a shrug and then grinned again. “It’s like a job, only there’s people trying to kill you whether you succeed or fail. Kind of a lose-lose situation, but a good one.”

At my stare, Phoenix laughed. “More like a win-win situation, Rave. We kill Falconans, we win; we rescue the Lost, we win. There’s no losing about it.”

Shadow gave a sigh and shook his head. His dark grey hair fell in front of his eyes and he pushed it back with a gesture that reminded me of Marek. “And thus, you see the irony of our situation.”

This time, everyone stared. Raven looked as though he was trying not to laugh. “Did you just use the word ‘thus’ in a sentence?”

Shadow shrugged. “I like to be dramatic.”

I laughed. “I have a brother that’s the same way. To some it’s annoying, to others, it’s charming.”

Shadow gave Flint a nudge with his elbow. “You see that? She said I’m charming!”

This time, it was my turn to grin. “I said people find it annoying or charming; I didn’t say which one I thought it was.” Flint elbowed Shadow back and he winced.

Marek showed me how to put the silencer on my Beretta and instructed me to take the safety off only if Raven and I were being shot at. “Our goal is to get the kids and escape with as few shots fired as possible. We don’t need the cops on our tails along with the Falconans.”

He led us to the front of the alley, then pointed to a large sewer drain. “This will be our escape. Flint calculated that it’s a half hour run back to the Den through the drain system.” He glanced at the boy for affirmation and Flint nodded. “Good. We’ll leave the bikes.” At Phoenix’s mutter, he gave a grim smile. “We’ll come back for them later. The Falconans know who we are, so they won’t be scouting for evidence anyway.” He looked at his watch. “Phoenix, take to the roof and stop the truck.”

Phoenix nodded. “With pleasure,” he said with a glitter in his cat-like green eyes. He turned and left without another word.

Marek scanned the rest of them. “You know what to do. Stay in contact, but don’t clutter the airwaves. Let’s keep this simple.” At Flint’s questioning look, he said, “As simple as possible.”

Marek disappeared into the alley across the street, his black clothes and hair fading into the darkness. I searched for him from where I stood. My heart jumped when I saw the unexpected reflection of the lamplight in two golden eyes. He was watching us, making sure we remembered what we needed to do, and that we were safe.

Rain fell softly around us, creating a feeling of surrealism, like this was all a strange dream. I watched the boys wheel garbage cans out into the road, a barrier to slow the truck down. I jumped when Raven touched my elbow. “Ready?” I nodded and followed him to our post at the corner of the street where the truck would turn.

After setting up his gun, Phoenix climbed back down from the building and used a crowbar slung from his backpack to pry up the grate that would be our escape. He then disappeared silently back to the roof.

“Now, we wait,” Marek’s voice said quietly in my earpiece.

Waiting was the hardest part. I felt restless and edgy. I started at every sound, amazed at how loud the rain seemed as it fell around us in the darkness. Somehow Flint had shut off the four lamps that lined our chosen street, and we waited without flashlights. Raven hummed an old song from Disturbed, his voice a quiet counter-cadence to the rainfall.

After what seemed like centuries, Marek whispered to us, “It’s one o’clock; keep on your toes.”

“Yes, Captain,” Shadow said with mock solemnity from where he and Flint hid by the garbage cans. Marek didn’t reply.

Raven snorted behind me and I turned to see his familiar grin. “Shadow’s been the comic of our group since we helped him escape a year ago. I don’t think we could convince anyone to take him if we tried.”

“Hey!” Shadow’s indignant voice squeaked over the radio. “I can hear you, you know!”

“I know,” Raven replied. “But it’s the truth.”

“Well,” Shadow retorted. “I didn’t have parents before, and don’t need none now. I’m the brains of this here operation.”

I heard a thunk followed by a muffled, “Okay, Flint. I’m the back-up brains. Watch what you do with your gun; it’s for shooting, not hitting!”

“Boys, let’s keep the radio open.” Marek sounded stern, but I swore I could hear a hint of laughter in his voice. I looked toward his alley, but could see only darkness.

I heard an intake of breath a few minutes later. “They’re almost here,” Phoenix said quietly from his vantage point on the roof.

I strained my ears and could just make out the slight hum of government-approved mufflers. My heart started to pound.

“Don’t move,” Raven reminded me quietly. “Wait until they stop at the trash cans.”

The truck turned right in front of us. It was a moving truck just under twenty feet long. Its sides were painted dark blue with a non-descript orange blur that might have been words on the side. Raven moved so that he stood to the front and right of me as if to shield me from danger. I felt a sudden surge of gratitude for the tall, slender bird Shifter.

The truck stopped at the garbage cans as planned and sat there for a moment. Phoenix’s voice sounded deep over the radio. “There’s two Falconans in the front, and I’m guessing two more in the back. I have the driver covered. Be careful; there should be more of them.”

My heart pounded harder; the thought of four Falconans had seemed daunting enough, but the fact that Phoenix expected more was terrifying.

The Falconan on the passenger side got out to check the obstruction. I heard the faint buzz of a bullet fired from a silenced gun; the Falconan dropped without a noise. The crash of breaking glass sounded earth-shattering above the hum of the truck’s quiet motor. Phoenix had just taken out the driver. I stood frozen to the sidewalk, unable to follow Raven as he made his way carefully to the back of the truck.

They had just killed two Falconans. The thought hit me hard and I almost dropped the gun in my hand. Marek appeared at the back of the truck beside Raven, his eyes golden and mouth tight. He was about to release the latch on the back door when two more Falconans on motorcycles sped around the corner, jerking me back to reality. The Falconans would kill Marek and his pack for what they were doing.

“Behind you!” I shouted into my mouthpiece. Marek and Raven dove to opposite sides. Bullets thudded into the truck door where their heads had been the moment before.

Both Falconans jumped from their still-moving bikes into the air. Their wings spread and caught the wind of their momentum, sending them backwards and lifting them higher. The abandoned motorcycles hit the truck like battering rams with an impact loud enough to alert every police officer within a mile.

The back door to the truck flew open. Two Falconans armed to the teeth jumped out and started firing in every direction. Marek rolled out from beside the truck and fired from one knee, catching the nearest Falconan just under his bullet-proof vest. The Falconan staggered and fell to his knees. The second Falconan rushed at the wolf Shifter, his shots going wide in his haste. Marek jumped to his feet and ducked out of my sight.

One of the Falconans from the motorcycles landed on top of the truck firing in the direction of Flint and Shadow. The other tucked his wings in at the last moment and dove through the back door into the truck. I heard the terrified screams of children. “A Falconan’s inside the truck!” I said in near hysteria. I ran forward, leaving the safety of the dark alley.

The Falconan on top of the van hissed when a bullet from Phoenix tore through his wing. He spun around searching for the shooter, and spotted me running toward him. The Falconan leapt off the van, tucked his wings in, and rolled when he hit the ground to come up running toward me, a gun in each hand. A bullet tugged at my sleeve and I stopped. My brain froze.

The Falconan was almost to me. His guns were pointed at my head, but he didn’t fire. I saw an eager gleam in his eyes as if he knew I couldn’t run and wanted to bask in the moment of my death. A shiver ran through my body. The gun felt heavy in my hand. I wanted to drop it. The Falconan was so close.

A shot rang out; this one unsilenced. The Falconan fell inches from my feet. Blood poured from an exit wound at its jaw. Marek leaned against the side of the truck, his gun still raised as he fought to catch his breath.

“Look out!” Raven shouted from the other side of the street. The last Falconan leapt out of the back of the truck and tackled Marek.

Marek kicked out, sending the beast flying over his head with the momentum of his rush. Shadow came running from Marek’s side of the truck and shot at the Falconan the same time as Raven. Both bullets took the beast in the back of his vest at close range. He slumped to the ground.

Flint helped Marek to his feet. Raven checked to make sure their leader was okay, then stepped up into the back of the truck. Someone turned off the engine. Phoenix appeared around the side. “Well, that was fun,” he said, shoving his guns into his backpack.

I found I could move again, though my limbs shook. I stepped carefully around the fallen Falconan.

“Fun?” Marek replied in an incredulous tone. He turned to me as I made my way slowly toward them. “You okay?” I nodded, unable to speak for the moment. He looked at me more closely, his eyes running down my body to make sure I didn’t have any bullet holes. “You sure? He got a couple of shots off.”

“I’m okay,” I managed to force out past my tight throat. He nodded, but kept his eyes on me as he brushed the blood and street grime from his pants.

“We’ve got to get outta here,” Shadow said. He indicated the truck.

I turned and saw that Phoenix and Flint were already helping kids down. Raven stood impatiently by the manhole. Every few seconds, he glanced back at the corner where he and I had waited.

“Right,” Marek said. He turned to the children and said in a calming voice, “Follow me. We’ll make sure you get back home.”

The children were scared. They ranged in age from about seven to fourteen, and I counted fifteen of them. It was less than I had expected, but when I realized the full scope of Marek’s promise to return them home, fifteen terrified, lost children was a lot. Marek motioned to me and I followed him to the sewer grate with the children close behind.

Marek spoke to them in gentle but firm tones. “You’re going to be alright as long as you stay with us, okay?” Several children nodded. He pointed at the hole. “Kyla and I will go first and we’ll wait for you at the bottom. Climb down slow and don’t look down. We’ll be at the bottom of the ladder if anyone needs help, okay?” A few more kids nodded, their eyes not leaving Marek. He turned and went down the ladder.

I waited a few seconds, then followed, my heart in my throat. It was pitch black in the tunnel. When I reached the bottom, Marek set a flashlight in my hand. “Guide them down,” he said quietly. “They’re scared and have been through more than any child should. They need you to be calm and reassuring no matter what happens. Can you do that?”

I nodded and was about to ask what could happen when Phoenix’s voice sounded through my earpiece. “More Falconans just showed up to play! We’re sending the last kid down now. I’ll stop who I can and then follow.”

“Good,” Marek replied. We helped the children down, followed by Shadow, Flint, and then Raven. Gunshots sounded. “Hurry up,” Marek commanded Phoenix. “I don’t want you to get lost down here.” He led off down the dark tunnel without a light. I followed after him with Raven, shining my light back so that the children could see where they were going. Shadow and Flint brought up the rear with more flashlights.

We heard a final gunshot followed by the clatter of what sounded like the manhole cover closing. About a minute later, Phoenix came jogging up to the front of the group, his green eyes reflecting excitement. Marek shook his head but didn’t say anything.

I held the hands of two younger children as we walked in silence. One of Mr. Flinn’s rants surfaced in my mind and I said quietly, “These sewers were abandoned when they built the new lines after the war. No one would trust the old water systems because of the contamination.”

Phoenix nodded and said soberly, “Biological warfare is nasty stuff.”

Raven had dropped to the rear when Phoenix caught up. He now spoke quietly into the headset so as not to alarm the children. “Flint and Shadow think we’re being followed.”

“Investigate,” Marek replied as quietly. “We can’t have Falconans trailing us home.”

He had just led us through another turn in the dark maze when the cry of a bird echoed up the tunnel. Marek stopped and waited. The kids crowded fearfully behind us. Raven flew low in his bird form, wind from his black wings ruffling the children’s hair as he glided to land on Marek’s shoulder. I watched Marek speak to the bird, the amazement I felt at his shifting kept in check by the fear of what was following us. Raven opened and closed his beak with a click twice to Marek’s questions. Our leader nodded.

“Phoenix, keep them going. We’ll meet up with you.”

At Phoenix’s nod of agreement, the bird took flight again. Marek shifted quickly into wolf form before my eyes. It was much faster than his shift in the tree house. I could only stare at the large black wolf that stood on a pile of Marek’s clothes. His eyes glowed golden in the low light of the flashlights. He glanced at me once, then loped past the children at a mile-eating pace, the raven flying low over his head.

I looked at the kids. They also seemed too amazed to be afraid. “Should I bring the clothes?” one asked.

Shadow answered from behind, “I’ll get them. It’s okay.”

Phoenix motioned for us to go on. I had to will my feet to move, my ears straining to pick up any sounds of battle behind us. Too much had gone on tonight to take it all in. My thoughts were a blur.

Phoenix led us down one long tunnel, took a passage to the left, then another left. He began to seem agitated, peering down each tunnel in uncertainty. Finally, he held up his hand and we stopped short behind him. The children were exhausted. They didn’t complain about stopping; they only huddled together and stared at their feet.

“What’s wrong?” Shadow asked from behind.

“There’s so many turns I’m not sure we’re on the right path,” Phoenix said honestly. He lowered his tone and said to me, “I wish Marek were here. He never gets lost.” At my searching look, he gave a laugh. “I know; I’m supposed to be the tough military one.”

At that moment, the rush of wings followed by an almost inaudible cadence of paws hitting the pavement came toward us in the dark. Marek, still in wolf form with Raven close overhead, loped past the group. He paused long enough for us to follow, then led the way down one tunnel and up the next. They all looked the same to me, but Marek obviously knew where he was going.

I was exhausted by the day’s events and had to concentrate to keep from stumbling in the darkness lit only by our flashlights. When Marek stopped at what appeared to be a dead end, several of the children sat down immediately on the dusty ground. I couldn’t find the heart to make them get back up so we could go back the way we had come. Luckily, that wasn’t necessary.

Marek’s low growl caught me off guard. I was about to usher the children back when a door slid open in front of the wolf in much the same fashion as the trapdoor from the warehouse’s floor.

Marek led the way up a steep ramp and out an opening into the Den’s kitchen. The wolf Shifter stood to the side and watched the children climb out of the hole, blink their eyes in the sudden light, and then smile tiredly when they realized they were in the safe place he had promised them.

Whisper ran up noiselessly from out of nowhere and threw her arms around Marek’s shaggy neck. He closed his eyes for the briefest of seconds, grateful that we had made it back. Only at that moment did I truly appreciate how dangerous the mission had been.

Marek glanced at me just as the thought hit me. I couldn’t read anything in his wolf eyes, but knew my face was an open book. He had saved my life, all of our lives, and brought us back to safety. How could one person do all of that by himself? He blinked his golden eyes, then turned and padded silently down the hall.

“Okay, kiddoes,” Phoenix was saying to the children who now munched on cold pizza and milk Shadow had brought from the fridge. “Everyone choose a room. Each bed has a teddy bear on it that’s your very own to sleep with and to take home with you. Go with Shadow and Flint. They’ll get you settled in.”

With obedience brought on by sheer exhaustion and full bellies, the kids filed out of the room behind the two young Shifters.

Phoenix counted them as they went by. “Fifteen,” he said quietly when the last one left through the door.

“Is that good or bad?” I asked. I grabbed one of the remaining slices of pizza, suddenly aware of how hungry I was.

“Average,” Phoenix replied with a shrug. “Any more than that, and we’re busy for over a month finding their homes. As it is, we’ll sleep a few hours, then start the search.”

Intrigued, I asked, “Where do you look?”

“Well, the Lost posters at government buildings, stores, and everywhere else come from huge databases. Those posters barely scratch the surface. Flint’s got three computers set up to systematically search the databases by the names and characteristics of each child we find. It takes a long time to get through each search, but once it narrows down, we find where each child came from.” Phoenix smiled, “Then we hit the returning phase of our operation, which is my favorite.”

I thought about Flint. He was so quiet and unassuming, yet he was also a genius. “How does Flint make all of this stuff, and does he ever talk?” Exhaustion definitely brought out my forwardness.

Phoenix’s countenance darkened, a frightening thing on a man who looked able to smash a table in two with his fist. He walked to the kitchen door with his effortless, dangerous grace. After glancing out, he leaned against the door jamb with his arms crossed.

He was quiet for so long that I thought our conversation was over, then he sighed. “It’s not that he can’t speak; it’s that he chooses not to. We all went through a lot of horrible things at the labs,” he said matter-of-factly with his eyes on the trapdoor from which we had just exited. “But for Flint, it was personal. You see, Galbran, the scientist who did all of this to us, is his dad.”

My eyes widened. Who could do such a thing to their own son? No wonder he didn’t speak. Who could trust anyone after something like that?

Phoenix continued, “He was one of the first Shifters, along with Marek and Raven. Flint was only six when his dad started to experiment on him.” He glanced at me. “I don’t know about you, but I think after something like that, I’d find things weren’t worth talking about.”

Chapter 18- Marek

I waited until the Den grew quiet with the soft snores and gentle sighs of sleeping children. Gratitude that we had been able to free so many filled my chest, but it was combated by how bold the Falconans were becoming. I worried how heavily guarded the next group of Lost would be. So far no one had gotten hurt, but this time the Falconan on the roof had almost shot Kyla, I had been lucky to escape the wing blades of the one that jumped me from the truck, and the motorcycles were a new tactic. We would need to post Raven on watch from the skies next time.

I walked quietly through the Den. Phoenix and Shadow showed Kyla the computer systems while Flint scrolled quickly through lists with the practiced eye of one who knew exactly what he was looking for. Whisper had fallen to sleep amid the stuffed animals piled high on her bed. She avoided the main rooms of the Den as much as possible when it was full of Lost children. I checked to make sure her nightlight was on before I went back to the kitchen and left through the ramp to the unused sewers.

I walked slowly along the pipes to make sure no Falconans got it in their minds to follow us. A few minutes later, the familiar sound of wings riding the stale air touched my ears and Raven’s midnight form drifted past my head. He flew through the darkness, then turned and came back my way, alighting on my shoulder. We walked on in amiable silence, the dark a bit lighter for the companionship.

We reached the ladder and Raven waited for me to open the grate, then flew out to make sure the way was clear. He called quietly above and I climbed out into the city night, then pushed the grate shut behind me. A brush of gray touched the horizon where the sun would soon rise.

The moving van was gone and all signs of our fight had been erased by the Falconans. I picked up a bullet casing and glanced at it, then tossed it down the grate. A quick check showed that our motorcycles were safe. My plan had been to ride mine home, but I decided to send Phoenix and Shadow for them later. The cool night breeze called to my other side.

I shifted and stepped out of my discarded clothes, then pushed them under my motorcycle with my nose. A wing brushed my ear and I snapped good-naturedly at Raven. He gave a swift push of his wings and flew low over the street. I accepted the challenge and loped after him.

My paws ate up the dark pavement and I relished the scents of the night, the familiar smells of empty buildings, poorly paved roads, the cool, crisp scent of rain caught in abandoned gutters above, the green brush of ivy entwined along a brick wall, the sour scent of garbage-lined alleyways, and the unwashed bodies of the few individuals who walked the streets and knew enough not to challenge our path.

The scents were not all pleasant, but they were as memorable to me as the pad of my paws against the cool sidewalk. I belonged to the city night as much as it belonged to me. In my wolf form, I didn’t worry about the shadow of wings against the scattered bits of sky that showed through the abandoned sky scrapers. I didn’t think about the future or my place in the world.

I existed, and it was enough that an angry cat yowled in the distance, giving rise to the brief urge to track it down. It was enough to see a black feather float down from the friend who flew above and know that for now, at least, we were safe.

Chapter 19- Kyla

Marek walked me to my car. By my watch, it was four in the morning. Our footsteps echoed through the strangely empty streets. Luckily, I knew my parents wouldn’t be up wondering where I was. They trusted me. They probably thought I was asleep in my bed, home hours ago. I reminded myself that we were in the Downs and fought the urge not to walk closer to Marek.

“Phoenix said he told you about Flint,” Marek broke the silence as he studied the street ahead, ever ready for danger but not tense or afraid, just accepting it as though he could deal with anything that came our way.

I nodded. After a moment, I asked, “Does everyone have a story like that? Yours and Flint’s, I mean?” I clenched my teeth, embarrassed by my directness.

Marek shrugged. “Everyone has their own story, their own tragedies and triumphs. It’s only a matter of the perception they are viewed in and how we let them affect us.” At my surprised stare, he gave me a small nod. “Take you, for instance.  You just went through what you could probably call the strangest, scariest, most unexpected night of your life. Am I right?”

I nodded, suddenly self-conscious at how sheltered my life seemed compared to his.

Marek continued, “Okay. You can let tonight affect you in a thousand different ways. You can shrug it off and act like nothing happened. You can jump at every shadow you see and vow never to leave the safety of your room until you’re eighty. You can go on a killing spree after every Falconan and Shifter you see; which, by the way, I’ve felt like doing more than once, and for which members of the government would probably praise you and then silence you in a back alley somewhere.” A short, humorless laugh followed and the echo of it from the buildings around us made it sound defiant. “But, however you choose to let this evening affect you, it’s the choosing that’s the most important part.”

I thought about it for a moment in silence. Somehow, it seemed to me like the way I acted after something like that was the most important part, the way I came across to those around me, and if I could hide what I had been through from my family. How I chose to let it affect me didn’t fit into my reasoning. I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”

The garage was just around the corner. Marek stopped and glanced up at the lightening night sky as though studying the stars. I didn’t look up; I knew we couldn’t see the stars in the middle of the old sky scrapers and pollution. I waited in silence and gave him space. He never said anything without thinking it through first.

“You are who you choose to be,” he said finally, his eyes suddenly meeting mine with surprising directness. “No matter what happens to us, we choose how we want to feel because of it. That is what makes us who we are. They can do anything to us, but as long as we keep what’s in here safe,” he swept the hair back from his forehead with a casual gesture, “And as long as we stay true to our own selves, we have power over everything, the world even.”

“The power to change the world?” I tried not to sound skeptical.

Marek nodded. “If we choose to believe it.”

I studied his eyes. In the light of the street lamps overhead they were blue, the clear dark blue of the water I had seen from pictures of pre-World War III beaches. I could tell he wasn’t used to opening up to people, and that this really meant something to him. He carried so much on his shoulders. Maybe he had to choose to believe he could handle it all so that he didn’t collapse. I nodded. “I think I understand what you mean,” I said quietly.

He studied my face. “Really?”

At my nod, he gave me a quick smile. “Good; then you’ll be okay.” He walked me to the car, held open the door, and then watched me drive safely from the garage and down the street. Glancing in my rearview mirror, I watched the lone figure fade into the darkness. He seemed so alone, one person against so much. I choose to help him, I told myself silently, no matter what it takes.

Church a few hours later went by in a blur; then I found myself heading back out the door to go to the Downs under the pretense of another study group at school. I was ashamed of the fact that my parents accepted my word as the truth and gave me the car without an argument.

“If you see Marek, tell him we’re playing hockey at the old school,” Kip shouted before I closed the door. I could hear Mom argue with Kip that he should be studying like his sister. I fought back a laugh at the irony.

I had just pulled in at the empty parking garage when Raven appeared from around the corner. I couldn’t help but smile at his infectious grin. “How’d you know I was here?” I asked, locking the car door while at the same time realizing what a futile effort it was. I was in the Downs. If my car was to be stolen, locking the door wouldn’t slow anyone down. I hoped my proximity to the Den would keep the car safe; it seemed like the nightlife and street activity I had seen on the way in avoided the blocks around the warehouse. After seeing Marek in wolf form, I thought I knew why.

Raven pointed up. I glanced at the low ceiling of the garage, then realized what he meant. “Oh, you were flying. Right,” I concluded a bit uncomfortably.

Raven nodded. “Flying surveillance. It’s my usual job when we have Lost with us; at least, when I’m not on the computers.”

I paused when we stepped from the garage. The sun was setting and the remaining unbroken windows on the skyscrapers around us reflected orange and a faint blush of red. “What’s it like, flying?” I asked as we walked toward the warehouse.

Without a moment’s hesitation, the bird Shifter replied, “Like the first ray of sunlight after a storm.” He looked up at the sky, too. “At that moment, you’re all there is, no worries, no fear, just the endless sky and the breeze at your wingtips asking where you’d like to go. You’re infinitely small, yet immensely huge at the same time, because you are in complete control of yourself and your freedom. With the earth so far below your feet, and in the face of a coming storm, you realize that the rules of nature are ancient, and that they must always be obeyed.”

I walked along in silence, processing his words. “What?” Raven finally asked; his cheeks touched with red at the smile that had formed on my face.

I caught his look and shook my head quickly. “I mean no offense. I was just thinking of how much you remind me of Marek. You both have such a drive for life and what there is to learn because of our experiences.”

Raven beamed. “Being compared to Marek is an honor.” His eyebrows lifted as he thought out loud. “I guess it’s because our experiences did make us, quite literally. We’ve been through some things kids shouldn’t survive.” Raven stopped walking and glanced at me as if embarrassed and cautious at the same time. We were about a block from the warehouse.

“What?” I asked self-consciously.

Raven grinned. “Sorry. After what we’ve been through, it’s hard to trust anyone.” At my silent nod of understanding, he continued, “It’s just that, without Marek, I don’t know where I’d be, or if I’d even be alive right now.” He glanced at the Den and took a deep breath. “When we escaped the labs, we were in pretty bad shape. We didn’t know where we were, where to go, or how to survive. The thing is, Marek kept telling me that we would make it, that we had to because so many others depended on us to go back and free them.

“Even after his family tried to turn him in, Marek just brushed it off as though it didn’t matter. He made this place our home. He kept us going back to the labs until he was sure we had freed every Shifter we could.” Raven shook his head. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, thanks for helping Marek. People like us don’t get helped too often. He’s not one to embellish when he’s hurt, so he must have really needed it.”

Surprised at the genuine gratitude from the bird Shifter, I said, “He would have done it for me.”

Raven nodded. “Yes, he would have.” He started forward, then glanced back at me over his shoulder. “And he would have enjoyed it,” he said with a teasing wink.

I pushed his shoulder, then felt bad when he stumbled forward. He was so light. “Sorry,” I said immediately. “I didn’t mean to. I forgot. . . .”

“That my bones are hollow?” Raven finished with a grin and a shrug. “It’s one of the side effects I’m willing to pay to be able to fly. Besides,” he said with another wink, “I never have to lose weight!” He gave a thoughtful frown. “I do have problems trying to gain weight, though. I guess I burn all the calories when I fly.”

“Sounds like a horrible problem,” I replied with a laugh as he opened the door to the warehouse.

“Oh, it is,” he said with a shake of his head. “The ladies like the brawny, muscular type.”

I paused inside the door. “Do you have a lot of ladies that visit here?”

Raven started to nod, his eyes round with gravity, then he couldn’t hold it in any longer; he laughed and shook his head. “No, never; but it’s fun to pretend.” I laughed and followed him through the graveyard of retired giants to the trap door.

Chapter 20- Marek

The atmosphere in the Den lightened considerably with the sound of Kyla’s voice. I watched her walk down the stairs, her hand on the arm Raven held out as if leading a princess. I smiled and fought down the slight rise of jealousy at her familiarity with him. I had to remind myself that Raven didn’t have any friends outside of the Den and I was happy he had warmed up to her.

She looked across the Den and the glow that filled her eyes when she saw me made my heart thump sideways in my chest. I took several steps across the room toward her without realizing it. It wasn’t until she passed through the door into the main hall that I let out my breath and realized it had been caught in my throat since I saw her. I turned away to hide the confusion I felt.

I shouldn’t be so comfortable around her. I shouldn’t miss her the second she leaves and count the minutes until she returns. It wasn’t safe for her at the Den, and she was getting in deeper with each visit. She cared too much and I worried she was going to get hurt.

She crossed the floor to me. “Everything alright?”

The concern in Kyla’s voice stole the worry from my mind. “Everything’s fine,” I reassured her.

Kyla’s face lit up and her green eyes took on the color of spring grass, stealing my breath away again. I wished I could ask her what made her come back, ask why she cared so much, but the words wouldn’t come. I settled for leading her to the computers where Shadow and Phoenix had narrowed down the families for three of the Lost.

“That’s amazing,” she breathed. Both Shifters grinned at her admiration and Shadow proceeded to talk her through the steps.

My patience lasted about two minutes. “I want to show you something,” I said quietly in her ear.

She nodded, trust and excitement in her eyes. Though Shadow and Phoenix were annoyed at the interruption, they knew better than to argue. I led Kyla to the lift and took us up. She anticipated the jolt of the box this time and didn’t grab my arm for balance. I found myself missing it; I tried to distract my thoughts. “How’s school going?”

A shadow swept through her eyes as she studied the Den below. “Alright, I guess. There’s a lot of pressure to apply for colleges.”

“Is that a problem?”

She shook her head, then caught herself and nodded instead. She glanced at me. “It is if I can’t decide a major.”

“Do you have to?” I asked, curious.

“It helps,” she said. She sighed and turned to me. “I used to be so certain that I was going to be a vet like Dad. I knew what school I wanted to go to, the classes I wanted to take, but now. . . .”

A brief swell of hopelessness showed on her face; the emotion surprised me. I took a step toward her. “What changed your mind?” I asked softly, afraid I knew the answer.

She hesitated, then swept a hand to indicate the Den as it vanished beneath the warehouse floor. “My old dreams seem so insignificant compared to all of this.” She met my eyes. “You make such a difference every day. Lives are in danger and you do everything you can to save them. You change every life you come in contact with.” Her voice lowered and she dropped her eyes as if embarrassed by her frankness. “Including mine.”

I didn’t know what to say. The battling emotions that rushed through me were cut off by her gasp when we reached the roof. “It’s so beautiful,” she said.

The candles Raven had lit flickered with the wind of his wings when he flew by and then dove down the pipe. I smiled at Kyla’s questioning look.

“This is for me?” she asked in disbelief.

I nodded. “You’ve done so much and been so brave. I couldn’t think of another way to repay you.”

Her mouth opened then closed and she just stared at me.

“What?” I asked, uncomfortable with the look in her eyes.

She shook her head. “You just continue to surprise me, that’s all.”

“Is that a good thing?” I asked with my eyes on the flickering candles.

She didn’t answer, but took my hand and led me to the table. I fought back a smile because that was supposed to be my job. I pulled out her chair and she sat, then she smoothed the napkin on her lap. I took the seat across from her and fiddled with my silverware for a minute, straightening the already straight fork and spoon.

Kyla twirled spaghetti on her fork and took a bite. “This is really good,” she said, her green eyes cast with a warm glow in the firelight.

“You sound surprised,” I pointed out with a smiled before I took a bite. “Spagetti’s not that hard to make.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Did you make it?”

I hesitated, then shook my head. “You can thank Shadow later.”

She laughed. “It figures that the one who eats the most makes the food. Now if I can just get Kip to cook for himself.”

“Your mother would be saved hours a day.”

“She probably wouldn’t know what to do with herself,” Kyla concluded with a grin.

“We wouldn’t want to take away her occupation,” I said.

She gave a mockingly solemn nod. “We’ll keep Shadow’s secret to ourselves.”

We grinned at each other across the table and I marveled at how easy it was to have a normal conversation with Kyla. I very seldom had the opportunity to talk to girls my own age and the thought made me nervous, but being around Kyla felt so comfortable and normal. There were moments when she made me forget I was different, something that scared me and felt like a breath of fresh air at the same time.

“How’s the spaghetti?” I asked.

She slurped in a noodle and gave me a self-conscious smile as she wiped tomato sauce form her chin. “Wonderful. My compliments to the cook.”

“I’ll be sure to let him know,” I said. She had missed a spot, so I leaned over without thinking and wiped the red smudge from her cheek the same way I did for Whisper. Kyla gave me a funny look and I froze, realizing what I was doing. I quickly took my hand away. “Sorry, I-“

She laughed, her eyes sparkling. “It’s alright. I don’t mind.” She wiped the spot off with her napkin. “I can be such a mess sometimes.”

I grinned. “I’ve seen Kip eat. You’re lucky you came out as good as you did.”

She laughed so hard she almost tipped her drink over, then giggled at the thought of spilling her drink. She covered her mouth and gave me a wide-eyed look of horror at the giggle and I couldn’t help but laugh.

The rest of the evening passed quickly with great conversations and lots of laughter. I escorted Kyla back to the lift and this time she held my arm as we lowered through the warehouse to the Den below. I wondered if it was my imagination that made little jolts like static electricity run up my arm from her fingers. I held perfectly still for fear that she would let go if she realized she still held on.

A glance down showed that everyone had fallen to sleep. Our dinner must have taken longer than I thought. The Lost children were sprawled out in the various bedrooms, Whisper lay curled under her favorite pink and purple blanket, Raven slept in front of a television, and Shadow and Flint had both fallen to sleep in front of the computers. I made a mental note to make sure they got out more.

“It’s so quiet,” Kyla whispered when the lift stopped.

“Don’t get used to it,” I warned softly. “It doesn’t happen often.”

She smiled and kept her hand on my arm as we crossed the floor and went up the stairs. I walked her to the car, reluctant to let her leave, but grateful the evening had gone so much better than I could have hoped. I opened the door for her and she slid onto the seat. The look in her eyes stole my breath away.

“Thank you for a perfect evening, Marek,” she said.

I swallowed and forced out, “It was my pleasure.”

She drove away and I stared in the direction she drove long after the taillights disappeared in the darkness. I walked slowly back to the Den and paused outside the door to enjoy a night that had become much brighter than I was used to.

Chapter 21- Kyla

“You’re sure she won’t mind?” Marek asked before I could open the front door. I looked down at Whisper who held Marek’s hand nervously and gave me a shy, hopeful smile.

“Mom won’t mind at all; she watches all of the neighborhood kids whenever she can.” I opened the door and led the way into the living room, Marek, Whisper, and Raven trailing behind. “Hi Mom, Dad,” I said, “You remember Marek?” Dad nodded at them over his newspaper while Mom rose and put away the book she had been reading.

“Welcome back, Marek.”

“This is Whisper, Marek’s little sister,” I lied. It was the only way I could think of to explain the presence of the five-year-old. Whisper grinned up at Marek, thrilled to be called his sister. “And this is Raven, a, um, friend from school.”

“Welcome to our home,” Mom said, not even batting an eye at the newcomers’ odd names and Raven’s semi-outrageous clothing. The bird Shifter wore acid-washed jeans, a red shirt, and a leather jacket that looked like it had been stolen from the set of Grease. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she concluded with a warm smile at Whisper. The little girl smiled back from behind Marek’s legs.

“Um, Mom,” I interjected with what I hoped was a pleading smile. “Would you mind if Whisper stayed here while we go play hockey with Kip?”

Mom’s eyebrows rose. It was odd for me to offer to do anything with Kip, but with Flint and Shadow occupied on the computers for their turn at searching, the Den overrun with Lost, and Whisper terrified to come out of her room because of all the commotion, Marek and Raven had jumped at the chance to get out and play hockey.

Besides, after last night I was anxious for any extra time I could spend with the wolf Shifter. I caught him watching me on more than one occasion with a look on his face as though he was trying to figure something out. Whenever our eyes met, he gave a smile that made my heart melt and dropped his blue eyes before they told his secrets. I longed for the safety I felt next to him, and wondered if I could be so forward as to take his arm again. I doubted it, but hoped maybe we would get a chance to talk again.

I coaxed Whisper out of her room by promising she could play with my old Barbie doll collection. I knew Mom would join in. Mom was always ready for dressing up dolls and braiding their hair. I wouldn’t be surprised if we came home to find the little girl dressed up and with her own hair braided.

“She’s more than welcome to stay; you know that, hon!” Mom said. She held out her hand to Whisper and wiggled her fingers invitingly. Whisper hid behind Marek for a moment, then sprung out and grabbed it as if suddenly worried the offer would disappear. “Right, then,” Mom said, pleased. “You go and have a good time. We’ll be fine here!”

“Thank you, Mrs. March,” Marek said gratefully. He tousled Whisper’s hair. “I doubt she’ll give you too much trouble.”

“Don’t worry about us,” Mom replied. “You guys have a fun time.”

When we pulled up to the old school’s parking lot, Kip hurried over with his friends trailing behind. “Need some more players?” I offered.

“Heck yeah!” Kip replied, high-fiving Marek. “Now we can have a real game!”

We followed the small group to the middle of the huge cement parking lot. “Do they use this school?” Raven asked doubtfully; he glanced around at the broken windows and graffitied bricks of the nearby building.

I shook my head. “It was shut down with a lot of the other schools after the war. Most of these places have become hideouts for the homeless, junkies, or AWOL vets.” The thought sent a shiver up my spine and Marek took a step closer to me as though he knew how I felt. “Lucky for us, this one is searched regularly because it’s within the residential district.”

“Does that mean it’s a safe place for all these kids to play?” Marek asked with doubt in his voice.

“One of the safer places,” I replied.

“Live!” Kip shouted, tossing a bright green ball into the middle of the group.

Marek took the other side while Raven and I stayed on Kip’s team. With their additions, the teams were five to four, with Marek’s team short a player. I soon realized that the two Shifters were holding back to let everyone participate.

Kip’s friends rose to the challenge. The games were fast, tough, and had everyone winded and laughing when we finally took a break. “You guys are awesome!” Brant, a short, blonde-haired boy from Kip’s class said with wide eyes.

“You guys aren’t bad yourself,” Raven replied honestly before taking a drink from the water bottle Brant offered him.

“Yeah, you must play a lot,” Marek said to Kip.

Kip nodded, beaming at the compliment. His cheeks were almost as red as his hair from the exertion of the game. “We play every weekend and most days after school.”

Marek was about to say something else when another boy spoke. “Uh-oh,” he said in an undertone. “Tarnick’s gang is here.”

“Tarnick?” Raven said in surprise.

“Yeah,” Kip replied, picking up their hockey ball. “We’ve got to go. They have a tendency to get rough.”

Marek and Raven rose with their sticks in their hands. They waited quietly for the arriving group to walk over to Kip. “Glad to see you’re on your way out,” a brown-haired, well-muscled teenager said with a humorless smile.

“Yeah,” a scrawny, older man with a ski cap pulled low echoed, “Wouldn’t want any trouble.”

“You’re really claiming this spot as your turf?” Marek said. I looked at him in surprise and saw that he wasn’t talking to the two thugs who had spoken, but to Tarnick.

Tarnick had been a senior the year before me, but he dropped out after missing over a month of class. He now ran a gang and terrorized the locals. The tall, athletic young man who had been captain of the football team before he left high school stared at the wolf Shifter. “Marek?”

Marek nodded, aware that Kip and his friends were staring. “We’re hanging out here if that’s okay with you.”

Tarnick collected himself visibly. He shook his head. “No, Marek, that’s not okay. This is our territory. You’ll have to leave.”

Marek glanced at Raven and I saw a smile flash between them. They started forward. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Tarnick nodded like he had expected that answer. “Show ‘em who’s in control of this neighborhood, boys,” he said with a flick of his wrist.

My heart skipped a beat when the seven gang members started toward Marek and Raven.

“Fine,” Marek said with a nod. “If that’s how it’s going to be.” He looked calm and collected, cocky in a charming sort of way; definitely not the demeanor of someone about to take a beating. He walked a few steps away from Raven, then waited casually with his stick on his shoulder. The gang split, four heading toward Marek and three to Raven.

“Should we help them?” Kip whispered anxiously. I shook my head, intent on the Shifters.

Marek spun and kicked; his foot caught the first attacker on the chin and knocked him out cold. He ducked under a swing and slammed a haymaker in the second man’s jaw. The man staggered back, gasping. Marek then crouched and spun, swinging his stick. The stick swept one of the remaining attacker’s feet from under him and he hit the ground with a thud that knocked the air from his lungs.

Raven was handling his attackers as efficiently. One lay to the side clutching his mouth after meeting Raven’s stick. Another tried to duck under a similar blow, but caught the butt of the Shifter’s stick on the turn around. He finished the last one with a quick stick-end in the gut in time to watch Marek fight his last man standing.

This one held a knife which he switched from hand to hand like a weaving cobra. Marek ducked under a slice and hit the man in the stomach with his stick. When the man doubled over, he knocked him with a back hand across the side of his face. The man fell to his knees with a hand on his jaw. “Mercy?” he asked with a glance at Tarnick. Tarnick sighed.

Marek nodded. The entire fight had lasted less than five minutes. “Mercy.” Raven walked to his side as Tarnick, with those few of his gang who could make it back up, walked over. I could feel the tension in the air. Kip glanced at me in worry, but I didn’t meet his gaze, unsure myself what would happen.

When they were about two feet from each other, Tarnick stopped. He stared at Marek for a moment, then held out his hand with a grin. Marek took it. “Same old Tarnick,” he said, slapping the gang leader on the back.

“It’s a tough world, Marek. Aren’t you the one who taught me that?” Tarnick replied.

Marek shook his head, a teasing light in his eyes. “No; I’m the one who rescued you from it.”

“Yes,” Tarnick said with a laugh. “And I’m forever in your debt. What can I do to repay it?” He pulled a coin from his pocket and tossed it in the air.

Marek caught the penny and grinned. “A penny to your name.” He chuckled and Raven smiled. Marek glanced back at us. “I have an idea. We were enjoying a pretty good game of hockey until you showed up. The more, the merrier, you know.”

Tarnick’s eyebrows rose. “You forget that I’m lethal with a stick.”

This time, it was Raven’s turn to grin. “I think the gauntlet has just been thrown.”

“I think so, too,” Marek replied.

***

Whisper had thoroughly enjoyed her time with Mom. When we returned, she was sleeping on the couch with two of my old dolls and her hair braided like a princess. I could tell Mom was sad to see her go. She made Marek promise to bring her back soon.

She and Dad had gone to bed right after Rosie fell asleep, so Kip and I chilled in my room.

“Who would have thought we’d be playing hockey with Tarnick’s gang?” Kip said excitedly, trying hard to keep his voice low.

“Yeah, it’s strange world,” I replied, setting my old hockey stick in the closet.

Kip threw himself onto my bed. It wasn’t often that we spent so much time together. I felt relieved at Kip’s presence; after the crazy week, the last thing I wanted was to be alone with my thoughts.

“Why haven’t I ever seen Marek in school?” my brother wondered aloud. “You’d think someone like him would stand out.”

Yeah, really stand out, I thought. I sighed and settled back on the bed by Kip. I could still hear the gunshots from the other night. The memory of the Falconan landing on the truck flashed through my mind. I shivered. “Kip, there’s something I have to tell you about Marek and the others.”

“Yeah?” my brother said, turning his head toward me.

I had to tell someone. I couldn’t keep it all bottled up inside. It was too much. I had seen Marek’s pack kill Falconans to rescue kidnapped children. He had protected them all and saved my life. I knew the government would do anything it could to kill him. He was so busy taking care of everybody else, and no one was watching over him.

I told Kip everything. He listened silently, more quiet than I had every known him to be.

“And I assume Tarnick was one of the Shifters he saved and returned home; that’s how they know each other so well,” I concluded. It felt like a weight had been taken off my shoulders by being able tell someone else what I knew.

“So, what are you going to do?” Kip asked, his green eyes serious.

“I’m going back to the Den tomorrow to help them return the Lost to their homes,” I replied, making my plan as I said it.

“What if Mom and Dad find out you’re not at school?” my brother asked worriedly, sitting up.

“I’ll think of something,” I replied, but the same thought had occurred to me. Mom and Dad couldn’t find out about any of this. Anyone with knowledge of a Shifter’s whereabouts was legally required to report it to the proper authorities. Keeping Marek’s secret was my only way to protect his pack and my family. “You’ll help me cover, won’t you?” I asked. I needed all the help I could get.

Kip nodded. “Just be careful.”

“I will,” I replied with a grateful smile. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” Kip agreed. He rose, stretched, then walked to the door. Pausing with his hand on the door knob, he turned back. “Hey, Kyla?”

I was in the middle of turning down my blankets so I could try to catch some sleep before tomorrow “What?” I asked.

“Thanks for telling me,” Kip replied quietly. “It means a lot.”

I nodded. “Thanks for being a good bro. I need someone I can trust.”

Kip’s ears turned red at the compliment and he disappeared from the room.

Chapter 22- Marek

I sat on the edge of my bed and listened to the noise beyond the curtain that separated my room from the rest of the Den. Children laughed and ran around while Phoenix tried to keep them from knocking over computers or destroying the place completely. Everyone was definitely getting a little stir-crazy being cooped up in the Den all day.

Making up my mind, I rose and stepped out into the hallway. “We’re going to a park,” I announced.

“Do you think that’s wise?” Phoenix asked, concern in his eyes.

I tipped my head toward the chaos. “Better than letting them destroy the Den.” One of Flint’s laptops fell to the ground and he gave me a look of despair. “We need our equipment in one piece. It won’t hurt to let them run around a bit and I think everyone will sleep better.”

“Sounds like a great idea,” Shadow agreed, appearing at my elbow. He turned and shouted, “Attention!”

The Lost children paused whatever they were doing and stared at him in surprise.

“Everyone who wants to go to the park line up in the kitchen. Anyone not there in two seconds will be left here,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. All fifteen children dropped what they were doing and scrambled to the kitchen. I fought back a laugh at Shadow’s triumphant grin. “You just have to know how to talk to them,” the young wolf Shifter said.

I nodded. “Right. We’ll take them to Hyde’s Park. It’ll be empty this time of night and the Falconans seldom patrol there.” Raven flew down from the roof and circled overhead once before landing on my shoulder. “Scout the area. We’ll meet you at the grate across from the old Swiss office buildings.” He clicked his beak twice and flew back up the roof pipe.

I glanced around the room. “Phoenix?”

He gave a grim smile. “I’ll stay and clean up.”

“You sure you don’t want to stretch your legs?” I asked, but Phoenix preferred not to see us shift. I didn’t know if it weakened his own resolve to stay human, or reminded him what the government had turned him into, but either way he avoided our outings as much as possible.

“I’ll be fine here,” he said with a touch of steel.

I gave him an understanding smile. “I appreciate the help. We’ll relax better knowing the Den’s under guard.”

He gave a relieved nod and began to straighten the crooked televisions and pick up the papers and blueprints that littered the floor.

I paused by Whisper’s room on my way to the kitchen. “Want to go stretch your wings?” I asked gently. Her eyes widened and she shook her head quickly. I knelt and she buried her head against my chest. I expected as much. She seldom shifted, and only when she and I were alone or with Raven.

I smoothed her soft, light hair. “It might be nice to get out,” I urged in a whisper. She shook her head again and I kissed the top of her head. “That’s alright. Maybe we’ll go out tomorrow and visit Kyla. Would you like that?” The thought made my heart skip a beat and when Whisper nodded, a smile touched my lips. “We’ll be back soon. Phoenix is staying and he’ll watch over you, okay?”

She nodded again and scurried back to her bed to play with the Barbies Kyla had let her take home. I rose and watched her from the doorway. She definitely got less attention than she needed when the Den was full of Lost. My chest tightened with worry, but I didn’t know what to do to help her. I pushed the concern down and walked to the kitchen where Shadow already had the trapdoor open.

“Single file,” the gray-haired young Shifter instructed. Flint went down first and the children followed him quietly, their enthusiasm for going to the park tempered by the dark tunnel below. I handed out several flashlights and closed the trapdoor behind me, then passed the group to take up the lead. Flint grinned and the expectation in his eyes made me smile.

I led them through the tunnels that wound underneath the streets of the city. The rumble of cars and trucks lessened as evening darkened into night. We paused at the ladder to the grate and I opened it slowly. Raven’s reassuring cry came from above. I slid the grate aside and climbed out, then helped the children. Exclamations and excitement bubbled from them when they saw the park. “Just don’t get too loud. We’re going to shift and join you guys.”

They ran to the playground and climbed up the slides and on the swings before I finished speaking. Shadow laughed and Flint just sighed and shook his head. I stepped behind a tree and shifted, leaving my clothes in a tidy pile. I padded back out to find Shadow and Flint in their wolf forms. Shadow’s coat matched his dark gray hair while Flint’s fur was dark brown with lighter markings. Both wolves had the long, gangly legs of cubs growing into adulthood, and their coats were still soft and fuzzy. They would eventually have the coarse outer coat and thick under fur of adult wolves, but for now they looked like the gawky young teenagers they were.

Shadow nipped at Flint and the usually reserved Shifter snapped back, then chased Shadow across the playground. I trotted after them, enjoying the way the night breeze swept through my fur and brought with it the scent of a night free of Falconans. The children didn’t seem at all bothered by Flint and Shadow’s change of form. They fell into the chase and soon a game of tag developed. Raven circled overhead on watch, but he made the occasional dart and spin in the air, obviously enjoying his time above.

Chapter 23- Kyla

When I arrived at the Den early the next morning, Marek was the one to meet me at the parking garage. “You’re just in time. We’ve located the twins’ parents. They’re in Dalton. Would you like to help us return them home?”

“Definitely,” I replied, excited.

Marek nodded. “Good. You’ll get to see why the shooting and life-risking is worth it.”

I rode in the front seat as Marek drove the black Land Rover south from Charlton. I glanced at Phoenix who rode in the middle seat between Alex and Abigail, twelve-year-old blond twins. I had to fight back a laugh.

Phoenix towered above them and would have looked menacing if he wasn’t playing a penny game with the kids. The twins giggled as they tried to grab the pennies from the cougar Shifter’s hands before he could close them. Abby tried to distract him by pointing at a V-line of birds out the window so her brother could grab the coins, but Phoenix didn’t fall for it. He closed his hands, then opened them and the pennies were gone. The twins looked at him in amazement, their eyes wide. Phoenix laughed and pulled the coins from behind their ears, then gave one to each of them.

“To remember us by,” he said with a wink.

Marek nodded and looked back at them in the rearview mirror. “You leave us with only a penny to your name. Be grateful for the life you have. You get to choose who you become and what you do with your life. Don’t let anyone tell you how to live, and don’t be afraid to believe in yourselves.”

The twins both nodded with wide eyes. Marek met my gaze and smiled. “It’s a tradition of sorts, giving the kids a penny. I hope some of them remember.”

I thought about Tarnick. The penny he tossed to Marek had a much more significant meaning now. “I’m sure some of them do,” I replied.

He nodded. “The twins have been away from their home for just over three weeks. The Falconans have taken to trying to intercept us before the Lost can reach their families; that way, they can return them to the labs as if nothing happened.”

I thought of how hard the Falconans fought to keep us from taking the kids. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for another gunfight. “So how do we avoid them?”

Marek glanced at me as if guessing my thoughts. “No matter what happens, you’ll be out of harm’s way; I’ll make sure of it.” He looked in the rearview mirror. Alex and Abby had fallen asleep on Phoenix’s broad shoulders. He gave Marek a thumbs-up, perfectly content to be a pillow. “Their father works at a small business office by the bank. I doubt the Falconans did their homework; they’re sort of a shoot first and ask questions later group. We’ll taken them there and hope for a happy reunion.”

It was with tears in my eyes that I watched the twins push their dad’s intercom pager at the front door. From our position across the intersection in the SUV, I couldn’t hear his voice when he realized who was at the door, but the kids’ glowing expressions told us all we needed to know. They were finally home. They clutched their teddy bears in excitement and waved at Phoenix, Marek, and I.

Donald Samson practically ran through the door in his haste to gather his children in his arms. Tears streamed down his face. Co-workers who had evidently seen his flight downstairs cheered and patted his back. He held his children as though he would never let them go. Someone gave him a phone and the kids shouted into it. More tears. Mother knew her babies were safe.

“And that’s why we do what we do,” Phoenix said from the back seat in a satisfied tone.

Marek drove us down a side-street, then turned back the way we had come. When the children’s reunion was out of sight, I sat back in my seat and dried my tears with my sleeve. There weren’t any words for how I felt. I stared out the window at the buildings as they faded away, content in the warm silence until a loud thud sounded from the top of the vehicle.

Marek glanced at Phoenix in the mirror. “They’re a little late. See how many there are.”

“Right-o, Cap’n,” Phoenix replied enthusiastically. My heart pounded as I watched him roll down a side window. He stuck his head and one arm out, his gun aimed at the roof.

“Duck!” Marek shouted.

I glanced ahead and saw two Falconans gliding toward us, guns raised. I realized the Falconans had just leapt from the back of the gray van ahead of us. I ducked and Marek leaned over me as far as he could while still driving to protect me from the glass and bullets that whizzed past and sunk into the seats behind us.

“Phoenix, hold on!” Marek slammed his foot on the brake and jerked the wheel to the right; he then gunned the gas, sending us speeding back the way we had come.

Phoenix leaned up between Marek and I. “Your fancy driving took the one off the roof, but the van picked them all up.” He paused and shook his head. “Marek, Ras is the one driving the van.”

Marek’s eyes took on a hard glint. “No wonder they caught up so quickly.” He pushed the gas pedal to the floor, watching the van in his rear view mirror as it dodged traffic to keep pace with us.

Marek swore and slammed a fist on the steering wheel in frustration. I looked ahead, fearful of another attack, but Marek was still watching the van through his mirror. “He always knows what we’ll do next.” The wolf Shifter shook his head. “He’s the one Falconan I can’t stop.”

No one spoke. The roar of the over-taxed engine filled the air. I glanced behind us and saw that the van was gaining.

“What kind of engine do they have in that thing?” Phoenix growled quietly.

“Hold on,” Marek said in an eerily calm voice.

I grabbed the handle by my head just before Marek stomped on the brakes again. The van shot past. Marek gunned the gas to catch up. “Take out the tires,” he commanded Phoenix.

Without a word, Phoenix leaned out the side window and shot his .45 with a precision that told of years of training. The left back tire blew, followed by the right. The van careened wildly, narrowly missing a yellow Mustang. The driver of the Mustang braked, shaking his fist angrily; but when he saw who was driving the van, he gunned the gas and sped away with a glance over his shoulder.

“He’ll put that fist away if he knows what’s good for him,” Phoenix muttered. “He’ll get arrested for ruffling feathers.”

The back door of the van flew open. The same two Falconans leapt out, their wings catching the wind as they raised their guns. “Now it’s our turn to ruffle feathers,” Marek said back to Phoenix.

“Right!” Phoenix agreed eagerly.

I watched them take aim. The Falconans and Shifters shot at the same time. Bullets cut through the shattered window. Phoenix yelled. The Falconan on the right jerked back, then fell to the asphalt. A semi that had caught up to us on our right was unable to swerve. That was one Falconan I wouldn’t have to worry about ever again. I tried to keep the thought from my mind that he or she had once been someone’s child.

The remaining Falconan shot at the tires of our SUV as the wind in his wings carried him higher into the sky. He flapped them backwards, landing on the van’s roof. He yelled something down to the driver. I imagined that he was telling Ras they had lost a Falconan. The van swerved into our lane; the brake lights on the van glowed red, then the Land Rover crashed into its rear with a sickening crunch. I lurched forward, feeling as though my neck would break. The air bags didn’t deploy; I wondered in a strangely detached way how they had been disarmed.

The Falconan on the roof was thrown off at the impact. He was nowhere to be seen. The vehicles were stuck together and continued their wild rush down the road. I peered through the open back door of the van and saw the driver glare back at us. The Falconan had spiked, red-tipped blond hair. His eyes were a startling color of yellow which darkened when he met Marek’s eyes.

“Your men are gone, Ras; give up!” Marek yelled into the back of the van.

“Not until I hand Galbran your severed head!” the Falconan yelled back.

Marek braked and jerked the steering wheel to the left. The Land Rover dislodged from the rear of the van and fishtailed, but Marek held it under control. The van slid around to the right until it was facing us. Phoenix leaned forward and shot through our broken front window. The bullets sliced into the engine.

Ras’ eyes widened when the engine caught fire. He leapt from the driver-side door just before the van exploded. His wings, the same blond and red color as his hair, were singed as he disappeared into the smoke.

Marek stepped on the gas, swerved around the burning van, and headed back the way we had come. “Nice shooting,” he said after a few minutes.

“Thanks,” Phoenix replied. He was already reloading his guns. “I just hope we don’t see that bird again for a very, very long time.”

“I second that,” Marek said under his breath.

***

“How was school?” Dad asked from his perusal of the newspaper.

I glanced at Kip. His eyes were wide as he stared back at me. I had picked him up on his way home and told him everything that had happened. My hands still shook, but I managed to keep them still through concentration, forcing each bite of unwanted salad to my mouth. “Good,” I managed to say.

“I got a C on my science test,” Kip put in. I gave him a grateful smile for the distraction.

“Good job,” Dad answered. He maneuvered a slice of tomato around the paper. “You’re improving!”

“Very good, dear,” Mom agreed, but her tone sounded odd. I dared to peek at her. Mom was looking from Kip to me with concern on her face. Why is it that moms always know when something is going on?

Mom opened her mouth to ask me a question when the doorbell rang. I jumped up. “I’ll get it!”

My heart gave a little leap when I found Marek at the door and Whisper holding his hand. The little bird Shifter gave me a shy smile. I dropped to one knee and she surprised me by giving me a tight hug. “Well, what a pleasant surprise!” I marveled again at how frail the little girl felt.

“We decided to take a ride and ended up at your house,” Marek explained. He brushed the hair back from his eyes self-consciously. “I hope that’s okay.”

“You’re always welcome here,” I replied. My cheeks burned when I met his eyes. I stood up and Whisper took my hand. Marek shut the door and followed us to the kitchen.

“Marek!” Kip yelled. He dashed around the table almost knocking over Mom’s potted plant by the telephone and gave Marek a high-five followed by a secret handshake I wondered when on earth they had found the time to come up with.

“Well, well,” Dad said, pleased. He folded the newspaper with a satisfied air. “We were just about to make s’mores out back, weren’t we, Connie?”

“Oh, yes,” Mom exclaimed. “The more, the merrier!”

Rosie clapped from her high chair, her golden curls bouncing. “Hello, Rosie posie,” Marek said with a wink. “I couldn’t miss saying hi to the cutest little baby in the house!” Rosie giggled and dropped her spoon on the floor. Fellow, as obedient as always when Marek was over, ignored the splattered macaroni. He sat near Marek’s shoe and wasn’t about to move from his chosen spot.

“I need someone strong to help me carry out the marshmallows,” Mom said, her eyes twinkling with enjoyment at the unexpected company.

Everyone looked down at Whisper. “I’m strong,” she said in a barely audible voice. Embarrassed at the sudden attention, she hid behind Marek’s legs.

“Well, then you’re perfect for the job!” Mom said. She held out her hand. Whisper peeked out, then slipped her hand in Mom’s with a huge grin on her face.

Kip and Marek talked hockey as they carried wood to the barbecue pit near the middle of the lawn. The sun had set and the velvet sky glowed with the light of the city around us. A slight breeze made the warmth of the fire Dad lit a welcome addition to the evening.

Crickets chirruped in challenge to the cicadas that hummed in Grandpa’s forest. I thought of my favorite tree nestled deep in the woods. The last time I had visited it had been with Marek. Somehow, the excitement of reading books in its branches had been overshadowed by the new world the Shifter had opened up to me.

Dad handed out the sticks, Mom, the marshmallows, and Whisper was put in charge of the chocolate and graham crackers, a charge which she took very seriously as apparent by the dark smudges and cracker crumbs on her cheeks and chin. Rosie had gone to bed for the night, and Fellow rested his chin on Marek’s shoe, content for once not to bark at every noise he heard from the trees.

“Marek, you and Whisper have become a welcome addition to our family nights,” Dad said. He sat back in his lawn chair toasting his marshmallow evenly with his stick resting on his knee.

Marek gave him a warm smile and thanked him, but I saw the troubled expression in his eyes. He worried about the danger his presence carried with it. He watched Whisper as she helped Mom squish a well-toasted marshmallow between two graham crackers; it was obvious he hated the life he had given her and the fact that she had no mother or father. He would give her anything, but that was beyond even his reach, and for that, he couldn’t forgive himself.

He turned his eyes from Whisper and met my gaze across the fire. His eyes were blue, but I saw the firelight in them, flames dancing in their deep sorrow.

“What do your parents do?” Dad asked. Whisper giggled as she tried to help Kip blow out his flaming marshmallow.

“My dad’s an aeronautical engineer,” Marek replied without skipping a beat. “My mom stays at home with my brother, Matthew.” It was true. I knew it by the look on Marek’s face. He still watched them, still longed to be part of his real family. How many times had the black wolf sat outside their window in the dark, longing to be let in? He still searched for Shane. Did he harbor the hope deep down that if he found his brother, somehow it would fix everything?

A knot formed in my throat and I fought back the tears that stung my eyes. If only they knew what they put him through, what his life entailed on a daily basis, they would know what a mistake they had made. But deep down, I knew it wouldn’t make a difference. Such was the fear of Shifters. That was why he fought so hard to rescue the Lost; he did it to keep them from becoming like him.

“Yes, sir,” Marek replied to a question I hadn’t heard. “I’ve always wanted to be a veterinarian and help animals, but cats just don’t seem to like me.”

Kip sputtered a laugh that shot the marshmallow he had been eating back into the fire. Everyone stared at him, me in horror, Mom and Dad in curiosity, Whisper with a giggle, and Marek with a slight smile. He met my eyes as Mom slapped Kip on the back, convinced he was choking on something.

Marek mouthed, “It’s okay.”

I didn’t know whether I should be relieved or concerned. I studied his face as he turned his attention back to my family. Part of me was glad that Marek was okay with the fact I had told my brother he was a Shifter, but I wondered if he would trust me anymore, and if I had betrayed him by revealing his secret to Kip. I gave myself a mental kick and swore to ask him before I told anyone else, if I ever had a reason to tell anyone.

Chapter 24- Marek

I watched them from where I sat on the other side of the fire. I shouldn’t have come. I cursed myself for the potential danger mine and Whisper’s presence brought to Kyla’s family. The Marchs were so carefree, unafraid of Falconans dropping out of the night sky to steal their loved one. They laughed and joked; there were times when they got mad at each other, Kip especially seemed to have a talent for pushing his parents’ buttons, but they got over it quickly and didn’t hold a grudge.

I watched Kyla and her mom as they tried to put chocolate and graham crackers over a still-flaming marshmallow. It was Kyla’s idea that the chocolate would melt better that way. Whisper sat on Mr. March’s lap, her chocolate-covered cheek resting comfortably on his sweatered chest.

They were both laughing at the other two and Mr. March gave helpful tidbits of advice on how to not get burned. Kip stood close by, a can of Coke held ready to douse any clothing that caught fire. The identical laughs of Kyla and her mother filled the air like two school girls. There was love in Mrs. Marchs’ eyes when she finally blew out the marshmallow, laughing over the lump of ash that was left.

I glanced back at Whisper in time to see her yawn. Maybe she could stay the night, tucked safe and warm in a soft bed with a mother to smooth the hair back from her forehead and kiss her goodnight.

I shook my head, suddenly angry. Whisper deserved that, even if I didn’t. How many times had I watched my own mother tuck Matthew into the bed that had once been Shane’s? My father frequently stood in the doorway, making sure his wife and son were okay.

From the same windows, I had watched Matthew grow into the healthy six-year-old he was now. Matthew had seen and even played with the black wolf in the few moments I could sneak undetected into the back yard. Our parents thought Matthew made up the big dog he talked about like an imaginary friend; but I saw the worried glances they exchanged when Matthew told our parents about a quick game of tag we had when Mom wasn’t looking.

Matthew was so dear to me. A younger brother; a brother. My heart ached whenever I thought of Shane. Matthew didn’t take Shane’s place and I never stopped looking for my other brother, but it helped ease the ache a little bit and soothed my wounded heart that throbbed when my thoughts caught me off-guard.

I forced those feelings away and fought down the lump in my throat. A family like that would never be mine again. I had to take care of the one I had. Turning my attention back to the scene across the fire, I saw that Mrs. March now held a stick on which was balanced a graham cracker, then a marshmallow, followed by a piece of chocolate on top. The flames licked eagerly at the graham cracker, toasting the bottom.

“It’s going to taste like smoke,” Mr. March warned.

“We’ll never know until we try, Matt,” Mrs. March shot back, a challenging grin on her face.

“They’re your tastebuds,” Mr. March concluded. He accepted the burnt-to-a-crisp marshmallow Kip offered and split the gooey mess with Whisper. “This girl needs to eat more,” he said to me, “She’s as skinny as a toothpick!” Whisper grinned with marshmallow in her white-blonde hair.

I nodded. “She eats all day but can’t gain a pound, right, Whisper?” I said with a wink. She nodded back, her dark eyes sparkling.

Mrs. March shrieked and dropped the s’more into the fire. I jumped up prepared for an attack. It took me a moment to realize that Kyla had just tickled her mother from behind. I stood crouched, my muscles taut and ready for action. I realized that they were all looking at me. I glanced back at my overturned chair, willing my muscles to relax. There are no Falconans here, I reminded myself.

“Jumpy, Marek?” Mr. March asked, his eyebrows lifted in surprise.

“Like a grasshopper,” Whisper piped in, causing everyone to laugh.

Chapter 25- Kyla

Marek helped me carry the camping chairs to the house. Everyone else was inside. The chirping of crickets and cicadas warmed the starlit night, and a soft midnight breeze tickled the grass around us. Marek touched my arm. “Kyla?”

I stopped, my face red. “I’m sorry I told Kip. I just had to tell someone in case something happened and I couldn’t come home. I-“

“Kyla’s, it’s okay.”

I stopped, flustered.

He gave me a half smile, his head tilted slightly to one side in a way that reminded me of Fellow. Marek’s eyes held concern, belying the smile. “Does it bother you that we came tonight?”

I shook my head quickly. “No, not at all. I’m glad you came, thrilled, really. I just. . . .” I stopped talking, unable to phrase the thoughts that raced through my head.

“Just what?” Marek pressed. His smile faded.

“Just. . .” I took a deep breath to clear my mind. I let it out slowly, resting the folded chairs against my leg. “I’m just amazed that I’ve only known you for a week. My whole world’s changed since I met you.”

“Since you saved my life,” Marek replied. He looked relieved, like he had been afraid I was going to say something else.

I nodded. “It’s so much to take in, so different from what I know.”

Marek reached into his pocket and pulled out something that sparkled in the starlight. “I want you to have this.” He set it in my palm.

I stared at the necklace. The thin gold chain dangled between my fingers like a spider’s frail web. The ornament on the necklace was a small gold circle roughly the size of a nickel. On both sides were four interlocking, raised circles. Where the circles met in the middle, a small blue crystal caught the sparse light. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered. I rubbed a finger over the edges. They were smooth. The worn edge of the small hole where the chain hung gleamed as though it had been worn a long time. “Where did it come from?”

“We don’t accept rewards or ransom money from parents when we bring back their children,” Marek explained, then he smiled, “Well, we try not to. Once in a while they force us to accept it, like the time we returned a lawyer’s daughter back to him. That was back before we had to be so secretive, before Ras had the Falconans guarding the homes of the Lost against their return.”

He gave another small smile, his eyes distant. “The lawyer was so grateful when we brought his daughter back. I remember him hugging all of us at least four times without letting Madelyn go. He tried to give us a hundred thousand dollars, saying it was the reward he had put up for the return of his daughter. We refused his every attempt to give us the money, but when we returned to the Den, we found the money hidden it in Phoenix’s backpack. We tried to take it back, but he denied ever seeing us before.” Marek gave a small laugh. “So we used the money to buy the computers and set up the Den so that we could help more kids. He sends donations monthly and it allows us to continue rescuing others.”

“And this?” I asked. I let the chain slip between my fingers so that the circle spun slowly in the starlight.

Marek watched it turn. “We rescued a little boy and girl, six and seven years old. It took a long time to find their home. Those without money get the least advertising in the world of the Lost. The kids were so quiet and polite; Tommy and Mary were their names.”

Marek tapped the circle so that it spun faster. “When we took them home, their mother was already running out the door before I could turn off the car. Somehow, she had known we were coming, known her little ones were finally safe. She could barely talk, she was crying so hard. We all were,” Marek admitted. His eyes shone. “She took this from around her neck and gave it to me. I still remember how her hands shook when she closed my fingers around it, then she threw her arms around me and hugged me so tight.”

Marek shook his head. “I wanted to give it back, but she begged me to take it, saying she had nothing else to show her appreciation. Even though I told her we didn’t need anything, she said it would mean the world to her if we could accept the tiny token of her gratitude. We left, but I returned the next night with some money and food. I found out that her husband died of cancer the year before, and her children had been kidnapped six months later. We leave them money every couple of months.”

“I’m sure they appreciate it,” I replied, touched.

Marek nodded. “That was three years ago, when we began to realize how bad the kidnapping was becoming.” He met my eyes. “Those kids had been away from home for six months. They’d been bought and sold several times in the underground slave market. Groups of organized kidnappers were starting to work for the government, picking up children who wouldn’t be missed or whose parents didn’t have the means to come after them.”

“That’s horrible!”

Marek nodded. He glanced toward the house. “That woman looked at me like I was an angel, like I had brought heaven to her home.” He met my eyes again. “That’s what you’ve given me, Kyla. You helped me realize that all humans don’t fear Shifters, that we aren’t so repulsive. You care and give so much; you’re like a breath of fresh air.”

My cheeks burned. I didn’t know what to say. I slipped the chain over my head and tucked the circle under my shirt where it would be safe. The metal felt cool against my skin. “Thank you,” I whispered.

Before I could pick up the chairs, Marek reached over and touched my chin lightly, turning my face toward the light of the stars. I held still and found myself wishing that he would never let go. “Your eyes have specks of blue in the green,” he whispered softly. “I’ve never noticed it before.”

I stared at him. Marek smiled self-consciously and dropped his hand. He picked up the chairs again and indicated the house. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” I replied with a matching smile, my cheeks on fire and my heart pounding.

Chapter 26- Marek

I wanted to kiss her. Something in her eyes melted away every other thought in my head. Her smile, self-conscious and sweet, pulled at my soul and made me feel wanted and accepted in a way I hadn’t felt since Galbran’s men took Shane and I. Dropping my hand from her cheek had taken every ounce of self-control I possessed, but I didn’t want her to think she owed me after the necklace.

I followed her into the house and set the folding chairs in a closet by the kitchen alongside the two she had carried. I found myself watching her every move, the way she brushed the hair that escaped her braid back with elegant fingers, tucking the strands deftly back into the braid, the way she smiled at the little black dog and his tail-wagging response, the way she helped Mrs. March put away the s’more supplies and clean up the kitchen for the night, and the self-conscious look she threw me when she accidentally tipped over a cup of milk, spilling it over the counter.

I hurried to help her and she smiled when I took the rag from her hand and sopped up the mess. “You don’t have to do that,” she said quietly.

“I want to,” I reassured her. I rinsed the rag out in the sink, then she took it from me and set it in a basket on the washing machine in a small room just off the hallway. I caught Mrs. March watching us with a smile on her face. She turned away at my glance and busied herself with straightening up the place mats on the table.

“I’m going to check on Rosie,” Mrs. March said, excusing herself. “Thanks for coming over, Marek. We expect you over again as soon as you can manage.” She glanced into the living room where Whisper lay asleep on the couch with a soft blanket over her tiny body. “And bring Whisper, too.”

“I will,” I reassured her. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

She smiled at us again, then went upstairs.

“Your parents are great,” I told Kyla. I pushed a chair back under the table, then glancing around the kitchen to make sure everything else was in its place.

“They’re amazing,” she agreed. She followed me into the living room and smiled at Whisper’s sleeping form. “Somebody’s all worn out.”

I nodded. “I am. Do you want to tuck me in?”

She laughed and tossed a couch pillow at me. “Not who I was talking about.”

I grinned and set the pillow on the easy chair. “Shoot. I was looking forward to it.”

She rolled her eyes and sat on the floor with her back against the couch. “I’ll bet.”

I sat down next to her and ran a hand across the floor, studying the way the fibers made patterns of my handprints. “I’m sorry about today,” I said quietly.

I watched her out of the corner of my eye. She looked at me curiously, her fingers tracing the hem of her pants around her ankle. “What are you sorry about?”

I met her eyes. “About the shooting. I was careless. I shouldn’t have let you go. It was too risky.”

She shook her head quickly. “I wanted to go, and I’m glad I got to see Abby and Alex go home. That was worth the risk.”

I disagreed fully. “They would have gotten home without involving you. I’m not going to let you get shot by Ras.”

“I knew the risk,” she argued. Whisper moved on the couch and she lowered her voice. “We both agreed that I could walk away if it got too dangerous, right?” I nodded reluctantly and she shrugged. “I just feel like the good outweighs the danger.”

I looked down at the small healing marks from my teeth along the back of my hand. “How would your family feel?”

“Marek.” She waited until I looked up, then gave a smile that melted my resolve. “I’m glad I got to go,” she said seriously.

Moonlight from outside played across her face. I hesitated, but the impulse was too great to resist. I lifted a hand and ran my fingers softly along the gentle curve of her cheek. “You might be too brave for your own good,” I said quietly; my fingers shook the slightest bit at the touch of her skin.

She cupped her hand over mine and held it there for a moment that felt like the most perfect eternity. Her eyes closed briefly, and when she opened them again and stared into my own, I knew once and for all that I was hers.

Chapter 27- Kyla

That night after Marek had gone home and everyone was asleep, I lay awake in my bed staring at the constellations on the ceiling. Mom had helped me put up the glow-in-the-dark stars years ago; they were a present from Kip on my fourteenth birthday. Mom had carefully created the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper, then we ran out of constellations we knew and ended up putting the stars in random spirals and patches all over the ceiling. Kip, on one of his better ideas, had also put stars on my door, the closet, and the bookshelf so that I could navigate my way safely out of the room in the dark.

I couldn’t get my mind to slow down. Memories from the last couple of days raced through my head. I heard the gunshots again, and my heart pounded at the remembered terror. It was easy to push the fear away when Marek was around, but the silence was enough to bring it all back in full force.

The thought of Marek made my heart pound in a different way. I traced my cheek where he had touched it so gently; a smile came to my lips at the memory of how his hand shook at being so forward. I found myself wishing he had kissed me, but I wondered if it would have changed the memory.

His eyes had glowed golden when he looked into mine, golden at first with fear for my safety and how strongly he wanted to keep me out of danger, then a softer gold when he brushed my cheek with his fingers and stared into my eyes as though he never wanted the moment to end. My heart and soul had echoed the sentiment.

I rose, walked to my dresser, and brought the pendant back to bed with me. Just holding it made me feel better. The cold metal was reassuring in the darkness. I turned it slowly and the crystal caught the starlight that stole into the room through a gap in my blinds. Blue light sparkled from the gem, bringing a bit of comfort in the gentle night.

I remembered what Marek said about blue specks in my green eyes. I had never noticed; I always thought my eye color was plain. I could still feel his fingers caress my cheek and heard the whispered cadence of his voice as though he was afraid of the words he said, but spoke them as though they would consume him otherwise.

I fell asleep with the chain intertwined around my fingers, the pendant resting on my pillow where it caught the most light.

***

It was hard to sit through school the next day. I wore the small pendant Marek had given me under my shirt, and felt it against my skin. My friends grilled me on where I had been the day before, and I did my homework in class to catch up. I felt obligated to go to the clinic and help Dad out for a few hours so he wouldn’t wonder what I was up to.

It was dusk by the time I pulled into the old garage. This time, no one was there to meet me. I walked quickly through the streets toward the warehouse, starting at every strange noise. By the time I got inside, I was grateful for the sentry-like presence of the abandoned machinery. I made my way through them, barking my shins only twice in the dark, and knelt to put my hand on the door. It slid open soundlessly. I walked down the ramp, waited for the next door to open, and stepped onto the platform above the Den.

I laughed when I saw the scene below. Somebody, my suspicions lingered on Shadow, had armed the children with water balloons. Water splatters were everywhere. Children chased Phoenix around the corner where the motorcycles were, then he chased them back to the main room with a fresh armload of balloons. Flint and Marek sat at the covered computers in rain coats; tarps had been spread over the maps and diagrams on the rows of tables. Whisper hid under the table where Marek sat while Shadow filled more balloons in the kitchen sink.

A balloon sailed through the air and hit Marek on the back of the head, splattering water on the computer screen. He rose, hands up. “Okay, that’s enough. No water around the computers or we’ll have a harder time finding your homes!” He shot Phoenix a questioning look, but the Shifter pointed at a little brown-haired girl next to him. “It was May; she’s got a good arm.”

“Uh-huh,” Marek replied, unconvinced. He sopped up the water with a rag Whisper handed him from under the table.

Now that the water balloons were banned, I made my way down the steps. Marek glanced up and when he saw me, his blue eyes brightened in a way that sent butterflies through my stomach. He leaned down and said something to Whisper. I grinned when the little girl dashed out from under the table and practically flew into my arms. “I’ve missed you, too!” I said, giving the girl a hug.

“These kids are crazy!” Whisper replied, exasperated.

Marek walked up in the hallway. “They are.” Two little boys who had followed him nodded.

I looked around again as we walked into the main room. “There are less of them. Who’s missing?”

“We returned Meisha and Jory this morning. We’ll be taking Crissy and May home tomorrow. May lives out in Huntington, but we’re going to take her to her Grandma’s in Vernon to avoid the Falconans. Phoenix and Flint will take Crissy to her uncle’s apartment in Mareport. He’s been helping her family search for her.”

May’s dark eyes sparkled from where she held Phoenix’s hand. “You excited to go home?” I asked her. She nodded, an eager grin on her face. I laughed; the little girl was missing her two front teeth.

Everyone eventually dried out from the water fight. Flint uncovered a large television in a corner of the main room and before long, most of the Lost had fallen asleep watching Looney Tunes re-runs. Shadow sat in the corner of a couch reading Green Eggs and Ham quietly to Whisper. Phoenix was in working on one of the motorcycles with Flint. Raven was out flying under the pretense of keeping watch; I guessed that sometimes, though, it was just to be able to fly.

It was the quietest I had seen the Den since the Lost were rescued. I glanced over at Marek. He sat on the floor with his back propped against a couch, his arms folded loosely across his knees. He was studying the sleeping forms on the blankets and mismatched couches around him. “How do you do it?” I asked quietly. “How do you get them all safely home and know that they’re safe and the Falconans aren’t going to steal them again?”

Marek gave me a thoughtful smile. “You worry about them, don’t you?” At my nod, he sat up, his smile fading. “That’s something I’ve wrestled with for a long time. It seems to me that the Falconans don’t pick them back up because their families are extremely protective and careful with their children after getting them back. My main concern is if the Falconans stop taking children in secret.”

I frowned. “You mean, taking them without care of who sees, regardless of consequences?”

Marek nodded, his eyes on the sleeping kids. “We’ve stopped them taking this group and watch everything that goes on at the labs as well as we can through the computers; but, what if there are labs we don’t know about, or lost children being traded at the closed borders for the sole purpose of turning them into Falconans?”

He turned and met my shocked stare. “They do the same thing with guns, bombs, and drugs; children are weapons now, too, once they become Falconans. We’re trying our best to stop what we see, which seems like a lot when you’re trying to return fifteen kids home; but I feel like we could do more.”

I knew what he was saying, even though I could tell by his expression that he felt he wasn’t explaining himself well. I had felt it often at home before I met Marek and jumped into his rabbit hole. It was a feeling of underachievement, of not reaching my potential, like I was made to do something great, to truly make a difference, but didn’t know where to go or how to do it.

But I was amazed he felt like that. Here was someone who saved children from a fate truly worse than death, and who returned them home to their families who were so desperately searching for them. He was a hero to the children he saved and to their families; he made a difference in every one of their lives.

“Marek,” I finally said, speaking soft enough that only he could hear. “You do more here than I could ever dream of doing. You save children without regard for your own life; you put aside your safety to get them back home.” I shook my head and wrapped my arms around myself. My voice was even softer when I continued, soft enough that a normal human wouldn’t have heard me, but Marek did. “I still shake when I think of being shot at. I don’t know how you can keep facing them.”

“Hobby, I guess,” he replied with a half-hearted, quiet laugh. Then he grew somber. “I just want them all to be safe, happy, and loved.”

“Well, you’re doing a good job,” I said. “I don’t know what they would do without you.”

Marek was silent for a moment. I followed his eyes to where Shadow had fallen asleep, the book dangling precariously on one knee. Whisper was snuggled against him from her perch on the arm of the sofa, her head on his shoulder and eyes closed. A soft smile touched her lips as if she was dreaming about something wonderful. “They’re my responsibility, Kyla,” Marek said quietly. “I can’t fail them.”

“You aren’t failing them,” I replied. “You’ve given up any life you could have had out there to save these children.” Marek sat quietly, his expression troubled. On impulse, I changed the subject. “What would you do if you weren’t doing this?”

He glanced at me. “If there weren’t Falconans and the Lost and everything?” At my nod, he gave another half-smile. “I’d be a student.”

Surprised, I lowered myself down to the floor so that I sat against the couch a few feet from him. “A student? Why? What would you study?” I thought about how anxious I was for my last year of high school to get over, and how overwhelmed I felt trying to apply for colleges. College was expected of me; I didn’t feel like I had a choice in the matter. Right now, though, college was just the next step in life, the way to contribute to society, to make a difference. I didn’t even know what to major in.

Marek’s answer surprised me even more. “I’d study everything,” he said with a flourish of his hand. I noticed with a brief glow of satisfaction that the wounds from his teeth had healed to leave a series of straight white scars across his skin.

“History, English, Art, Science,” Raven said from behind us, making me jump. Marek must have heard him coming because he didn’t seem surprised to see the bird Shifter. “Chemistry,” Raven concluded, hoisting himself over the back of the couch to sit near Marek. “Maybe we can figure out what they did to us.”

Suddenly curious, I asked him, “If you did find a way to reverse it, would you?”

Raven hesitated a moment, then shook his head with a grin on his face. “Flying is too much fun. It’s worth the persecution.”

I knew I shouldn’t ask, but I did anyway. “Would you, Marek? Would you give up being a Shifter?”

Marek studied his hand, clenching and unclenching his fist, watching the scars. I wondered if he had heard me, or if he simply didn’t want to answer. I was trying to think of another change of subject when he said, “No, I wouldn’t.” His tone was slightly lifted, as if he had just realized something. “I wouldn’t give up being part wolf. It’s a part of me, even if it’s a part most people would find undesirable. It would be like asking you to cut off your hand and learn to live without it. You could do so, but you’d miss that part of you that made you whole.”

I thought for a moment. “Why don’t the children shift? I’ve seen you shift, and Raven is constantly flying, keeping watch.”

“More flying than keeping watch, I’m afraid,” Raven interjected with a self-conscious smile, his dark eyes flashing.

Marek was silent, then he replied in a heavy tone, “It’s hard to do something like shift when you’ve been forced to do it over and over again in front of a bunch of scientists who care only that you do it faster and more efficiently. Once you get away, you want nothing to do with that part of your life anymore because it brings back the memories. But Shadow and Flint shift when we get out to run, and I can occasionally urge Whisper to fly a bit when we’re alone, but those moments are few and far between.”

Raven nodded his agreement of Marek’s words. “It took me a long time to shift after we left the labs. It was almost like I was afraid doing it would bring them back, and would make me a prisoner again.” He glanced down at Marek sitting on the floor. When he continued, his voice held respect. “But Marek wasn’t afraid. He protected us so many times as a wolf that I finally forced myself to shift.” He winked at me. “I’ve been flying ever since.”

“It wasn’t that I wasn’t afraid,” Marek replied. By Raven’s raised eyebrows, I realized Marek had never talked about it before. Marek continued, “Being a wolf was the only way I could protect the Den from the colorful inhabitants of the Downs.” He stared at his hands as though looking through them at his memories. “Sometimes, I paced the whole night around the warehouse just to keep the local gangs at bay. They weren’t too pleased with us moving in on their territory. Luckily it didn’t take them long to realize that a black wolf would attack anyone who came near our warehouse.” He gave a ghost of a smile. “It gave them a good reason to steer clear of this place and not be thought cowards for doing so.”

Raven laughed. “I wondered why they never bothered us! I’m just glad the great black wolf of the Downs is on our side.”

“Alright, alright,” Marek said, rising to his feet. “Let’s get these kids to bed.”

As if on cue, Phoenix and Flint came up the hall, finished with their motorcycle for the night. We all helped carry the little ones to their beds where they clutched their teddy bears and dreamed of home.

***

I drove slowly through the streets of the Downs. Once I left the vicinity of the warehouse, it was easy to remember that I was in the roughest, dirtiest part of Charlton. Members of the city’s dark nightlife leered at me as I drove past. I slowed for a yellow light, then sped up to run the red as several tattooed, chained, and solemn looking men broke away from the sidewalk toward me. My heart started to pound. I shouldn’t be driving through any part of the city alone after citizen curfew, especially the Downs.

I reached another stoplight, but this time I didn’t even slow down. There was no one driving on the roads at night, no one sane at least. Then I saw a single headlight in my rear-view mirror. The motorcycle passed me, then slowed to the creep I was doing through the city.

Alarmed, I was about to turn at the next light when my headlights reflected on the small silver wolf paw print on the back of the rider’s helmet. It was the same sign painted on all of the pack’s equipment. I gave a sigh of relief. This was Marek, then, escorting me safely home. Motion above the rider caught my attention, black wings held out in a glide. Raven.

I followed them to Chester Street a few blocks from my house, then the rider turned up a side street and was gone. Grateful for the safe return, I pulled into my driveway and turned off the engine. I walked slowly to the side door, enjoying the coolness of the night breeze.

A sound caught my attention and I turned back toward the car. My heart skipped a beat. A black wolf stood under a large elm in the neighbor’s yard across the street. A black bird sat in the branches above Marek’s head. Raven lifted a wing and let it fall, almost like a human wave. I smiled and waved back, then stepped through the door, my heart thumping a bit louder than usual.

I didn’t know if it was the fact that Marek cared enough to see me to my door despite the obvious danger to himself or that I was unaccustomed to seeing him in his wolf form that made my heart pound, but when I closed the door, I realized I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Mom sat on the sofa with a book in her hand, waiting up for me.

“Uh, hi Mom,” I said as casually as I could. I set my keys on the small shelf by the door and tried to think of a good excuse for why I was home so late.

“Hi,” Mom replied with a warm smile. She bent the corner of the page she was reading and closed her book. “It’s been a while since we’ve had the time to talk, just the two of us.” She patted an empty cushion next to her.

It had been a while since we last talked, but I found myself thinking now wasn’t the best time to catch up. I doubted Mom would be thrilled with what I had to talk about. I settled reluctantly in the corner of the couch, pulled off my shoes, and brought my knees up under my chin so that I sat facing my mother.

“Oh, don’t look so worried,” Mom said with a laugh. “You’re not the only one that’s ever been out after curfew.” She pulled her legs under her and leaned on the arm of the couch.

It suddenly struck me that Mom wasn’t mad at me. “Where’s Dad?” I asked cautiously.

“In bed, snoring,” Mom replied with another laugh. “He was worried when you didn’t come home, and I told him I’d wake him up if there was an emergency.”

Grateful that she covered for me, I smiled. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Mom said with a shrug that made her seem years younger. She gave a small, understanding smile. “So, you really like Marek, huh?”

A knot formed in my stomach. I fumbled for words. “It’s obvious, huh?”

Mom nodded. “You don’t have to be shy about it. Marek seems like a great guy.” Her eyebrows lifted a little, bringing out the laugh lines around her eyes. “He’s different than the other guys you’ve hung out with. There’s something about him that I can’t place my finger on, but I really like him.”

I almost laughed out loud at the irony. If my mother only knew how truly different Marek was, she probably wouldn’t be saying those things. In fact, she would probably call Dad on that emergency. “Yeah, he’s nice,” I forced out, twisting my finger in the frill of the couch pillow I held on my lap.

I was grateful when Mom switched subjects. “Did you research the list of colleges Dad gave you?”

I nodded. “I looked at some of them. I think I’m going to need more time to decide what to go into.”

Mom nodded. “There’s no rush. Dad appreciates your help at the clinic, and there’re always classes at the University until you decide.”

I nodded. Not thinking, I toyed with the necklace that had escaped from under my shirt.

It caught Mom’s attention and she leaned forward for a closer look. “That’s beautiful,” she exclaimed as she held it out so the tiny blue gem could catch the light.

“Marek gave it to me,” I said. Mom was being so nice and understanding, I really wanted her to know what a good guy Marek was.

“He has good taste. It really brings out the color in your eyes,” Mom replied. She smiled at me, her own green eyes twinkling. She rose and smoothed my hair. “Have a good night, okay?”

I nodded. “You, too, Mom.”

Mom turned off the kitchen light and left the room. I rose and made my way upstairs, one hand still clutching the necklace.

Chapter 28- Marek

Raven circled above my head, then left me to pad alone down the street where I used to live. He knew I valued my privacy, and I knew he still watched above, silent but protective. Neither of us spoke of my visits to the small yellow house with white shutters and the new wrap-around porch Dad had built last year. I knew I shouldn’t go there, but I was drawn back every few nights or so. I told myself it was just to check on things, but deep down I knew it was so much more.

I wanted to turn around and leave the place where I had been hurt worse than anything they did to me in the lab, but a need touched something deep within my soul and strung it so tight the only way to ease the tension was to make sure my family was safe. I had to see them, and even though it made the ache in my chest deepen, the tension that held me when I was away lessened to the point where it was bearable.

I jumped softly onto the dark porch, my paws quiet but for the click of my claws on the wood. I padded soundlessly to the living room window, but the lights were out. I followed the porch around to the back of the house where the wide kitchen windows overlooked the starlit yard. The leaves of the apple and cherry trees along the fence rustled gently in the night breeze that carried a promise of more rain.

My heart stilled at the scene through the kitchen window. Mom and Dad sat at the table, Mom with Dad’s reading glasses on and a pile of recipes in front of her that she copied onto index cards while Dad perused a golf magazine. The sight was so normal, the table lit by the lamp above while the rest of the kitchen relaxed in darkness. Condensation had formed a circle around Mom’s glass of iced tea, while Dad sipped a cup of hot chocolate that he claimed helped him sleep.

Neither spoke, having settled into the comfort of a relationship that required no words but merely the presence of the other for peace. A plate of half-eaten biscuits sat between them, a knife on the butter tray and a jar of raspberry preserves open next to it. The familiar scent of Mom’s vanilla candles and Dad’s mild cologne touched my sensitive nose.

I closed my eyes briefly and imagined that I was in there with them, perhaps studying for a Biology test or working on Science homework next to Shane who practiced his Math facts. Matthew would still be in bed, like he was now, worn out from a day of Kindergarten. The ache in my chest swelled until the pain was so real I wanted to curl up in a fetal position and cry.

I opened my eyes and forced the feeling away. I had long passed the hope that they would see me outside the window and beg me to come back, saying that they were sorry and they hoped I would forgive them. Dad saw me once about two years ago. He had stared at me in my wolf form, recognition intense in his gaze. He got up and left the kitchen and I waited nervously by the trees to see what his reaction would be.

When he stepped outside with a pistol, I jumped over the fence and didn’t return for two weeks. After that, I took care that they didn’t see me for fear they would move and I wouldn’t be able to find them. They didn’t need a Shifter in their lives, but the wolf DNA in my veins needed to take care of my family nonetheless. Instinct drew me back again and again and I gave in because it was worth it to see Matthew.

I followed the porch to where it met the garage, jumped quietly from a garbage can to the sloped roof over the garage, then to the porch roof. I trotted softly along the rough shingles to my brother’s window.

My heart rose when I saw that he wasn’t asleep. He played with several little green plastic soldiers by the light of his lamp. His pillows served as mountains under the green camouflage covers on his bed, and he stormed a group of unsuspecting brown soldiers in a valley. He made quiet gun sounds as he took out the troops.

Mom’s footsteps creaked on the wood outside his door. He quickly shut off the lamp and slid under the covers. She poked her head in and he closed his eyes tight, pretending to be asleep. She glanced my way and I ducked below the window. She waited for a moment, then left and shut the door behind her. Matthew hesitated a few more minutes, then turned on his light and began to play again.

One of my back feet slipped on a loose shingle. I stepped quickly to the side with no problem, but when I looked back up I stared straight into Matthew’s eager blue eyes. He opened the window and I froze, shocked beyond action.

“What are you doing up here?” he asked, delight in his voice. “I haven’t seen you for a long time.”

He held out a hand. I hesitated, then stepped forward and gave it a tentative lick. The taste of peanut butter and Mom’s homemade jelly tickled my taste buds.

“You should be careful,” he whispered, glancing back at the door. “Mom might call the police if she sees you.”

I stared at him in surprise, wondering how much he guessed. Most mothers would call the dog catcher if they found a stray animal, not the police. His little brows creased. “I don’t know why she doesn’t like you,” he continued, concern in his voice. “Everyone deserves a home.”

I swallowed the lump that rose in my throat and pushed my head through the window. He surprised me by wrapping his arms tightly around my neck and hugging me with all the might a six year old could muster. He let go and stepped back so I could come into his room.

I doubted it was a good idea, but the opportunity to go into Shane’s old room was too great to pass up. I leaped through the window and landed with a gentle thud on the blue carpeted floor. Mom’s scent mingled with Matthew’s, a fainter touch of Dad’s, and the almost indistinct, but still lingering little boy scent of Shane that made my heart give a strong throb of regret.

Matthew sat on the floor, his eyes never leaving my face. “I’ve seen the pictures she hides in her drawer,” he said quietly. “I hear them talking when they think I’m asleep.”

I sat beneath the window and watched him. He seemed older than I had been at his age, more aware of the world around him. I had been so oblivious of what lay outside my window, wrapped in the safety of my life with loving parents and a brother who looked up to my every action. I never imagined what people could do to children, and how quickly the innocence of youth could vanish. The thought that Mom still kept pictures of Shane and I made me wonder if she held the same regrets that tightened around my heart.

“I always wonder what it would be like to grow up with big brothers,” Matthew said. His eyes held no fear or worry, just the imagination and wonder of the young. He had no reason to be frightened of a big wolf in his room, and the trust in his eyes kept me there. I wished for a moment that I could shift and talk to him, to tell him what happened and ask what Mom and Dad said.

Footsteps sounded up the stairs again. I rose reluctantly and listened for the board to squeak. Matthew followed my gaze to the door. “You’d better go,” he whispered.

I jumped back through the window, but his voice stopped me. “Promise me you’ll come back?”

I turned to see his little hands on the window, waiting for my answer before he pulled it closed. His eyes held mine with all seriousness. I nodded and gave him a wolf grin, sticking my tongue out to the side. He giggled and pulled the window shut.

The door to his room opened and I dropped to my stomach on the cool shingles. “Matthew, what are you doing?” Mom asked. She crossed to the window and I heard her hand press against the frame as she looked out. I crouched as low as I could against the roof.

“I was looking for a soldier,” Matthew said.

“And you thought you left him on the roof?” Mom asked, turning away at the distraction. “I’m going to have to ask your father to put a lock on the window.”

“No,” Matthew said with a note of desperation in his voice. At Mom’s no doubt confused look, he hurriedly continued, “I won’t open it again, I promise.”

I listened to him climb in bed followed by a soft rustle as Mom tucked the blankets around him. “Now go to sleep. You’re going to be grumpy for school tomorrow.”

“Okay. Night, Mom.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

She turned off his lamp and paused at the doorway, then shut the door behind her.

The blankets moved and I stood and looked through the window to find Matthew staring back at me again. “Goodnight, Marek,” he said, touching the window with his hand.

Hearing my name said in his sweet, innocent voice sent a shard of fierce, almost painful love through me. My brother knew who I was, and he wanted me around. I pushed my nose to the cool glass on the other side and he grinned, showing an empty gap where one of his bottom teeth had fallen out a week ago. On a foolish whim, I licked the window, then regretted the action as the taste left a coating of dust and pollen on my tongue. On the other side of the window, Matthew giggled, then covered his mouth with his hands; laughter danced in his blue eyes.

I turned and jumped from the roof to land lightly on the grass. I felt his eyes on me as I trotted through the yard and leaped the back fence. Raven’s dark form glided above me and I wondered what he thought of the situation. My feet barely touched the ground at the thought of Matthew’s tight hug and his warm acceptance.

Chapter 29- Kyla

The plan was to leave for Vernon at seven; that way the others would be on their way back from taking Crissy home. Marek wanted to make sure Phoenix and Flint dropped her off safely before we left with May. I forced myself to go to school in the meantime, though the impending trip weighed on my mind. I sat at the senior assembly, my thoughts on other matters as the class president presented that year’s theme for the Senior Ball.

Clapping broke through my thoughts, drawing me back to the present. “Isn’t it wonderful?” Marissa exclaimed. The excitement on her face was reflected on many of the other senior girls’; the guys, however, looked a little less enthused.

“What?” I asked, suddenly curious.

“It’s going to be a real ball! Weren’t you listening?” Marissa demanded. She rushed on without waiting for me to answer. “We’re going to learn the dances, dress up all fancy, and have a true ball just like they did back in Jane Austen’s time!”

“Yeah, great,” Andrew, a Senior who sat behind me in Art class, grumbled. “We have to dress up in frillery, too.”

“I hear those men used to wear wigs and panty hose,” another complained.

“Oh, boo hoo,” Janise, a blonde-haired girl I knew from gym class shot back. “You poor boys are too manly for hose.”

“Don’t worry,” Marissa told them in consolation. “We don’t have to be one hundred percent accurate in our costumes, just as close as possible.”

“Yeah,” Janise agreed, suddenly thoughtful. “I don’t want my date to wear a powdered wig.”

“I doubt you’ll have to worry,” Andrew replied. “I can’t picture Marshal in a wig.”

We all laughed at the thought of the biggest jock on the football team wearing a white wig and hose.

The bell rang. Tamika, the Senior Vice President, was still taking a hurried vote for the theme song of the ball as everyone began to make their way to the exit. “Is that a hand, Thatcher? Very funny, Don, but I’m counting hands, not fingers,” I heard Tamika say before I left through the auditorium doors with the crowd.

Once home, I let Fellow out, then scratched a quick note to my parents to let them know I would be back late. I made sure Fellow had clean water, slipped my pocket knife into a pocket, then grabbed my keys and left.

I entered the Den just as Marek got off the phone. “Crissy’s safe with her uncle and the guys are on their way back.” He looked at Flint and Whisper. “You have everything under control?”

Flint nodded. Whisper glanced at the Lost who were left, and who were, for the moment, noisily involved in a game of red rover. “We’ve got it for now, but it won’t last long!” she stated with all the seriousness a five-year-old can muster.

“I think you can take care of it,” Marek told her with a wink. He knelt down to give her a hug, then turned to me, Raven, and the excited little May. “Let’s go.”

They piled into my Neon. I had volunteered my mom’s car because Phoenix was still working on the Land Rover from the bullet damage earlier that week. Marek drove and Raven sat in the back with May who clutched her teddy bear in barely contained excitement to return home. The little girl’s brown eyes sparkled as she told Raven about her home, her brown curls bouncing on her shoulders.

“How was school?” Marek asked.

I glanced at him, wondering if he was just making small talk, but he looked curious. “Okay, I guess,” I replied. “All the seniors are in a frenzy about the Senior Ball. They’re going to do it Old English style. Everyone seems excited.”

“And you’re not?”

I shook my head. “Not really, I guess. I just . . . I’m not really. . . .” I gave up trying to explain how I felt. It seemed petty now that I was here with the pack driving a Lost child home to her family.

“Just what?” Marek prompted. I wished he would let it drop, but his tone grew serious, concerned. “Kyla, do you trust me?”

“Yes,” I replied quietly, avoiding his gaze.

“Then tell me what’s bothering you.” He said it gently, as though to reassure me that he truly cared and wasn’t trying to force me out of my comfort zone.

I sighed, my cheeks growing red. “I’m fine with everything. The Ball . . . it’ll all be great.” I was suddenly angry with myself for letting it turn into such a big deal. I mumbled the last words in the hope that he wouldn’t hear. “I just don’t have a date.”

Embarrassed, I turned to look out the side window. I had been so busy with school and helping Dad that I hadn’t made too many friends with the boys in my classes outside of mere acquaintances. It only bothered me when things like dances were brought up. I would stick out like a sore thumb if I went by myself. Besides, I wasn’t a very good dancer. It would be better not to go.

My decision made, I barely heard Marek say, “I’ll take you.”

I turned and stared at him, wondering if I had heard him correctly. He met my frank gaze, his blue eyes a bit defiant in his discomfort.

“What did you say?” I asked, still certain I hadn’t heard him right.

He looked back at the road. “I said I’ll take you, if you’d like.” It was his turn to look embarrassed. “That is, if you don’t mind that I’m, well, what I am. I would understand, if you do.”

I realized I was still staring at him and dropped my gaze to my hands. I could feel the necklace where it hung under my shirt. My heart skipped a beat at the thought of dancing with him at a ball. Did he actually want to take me? It seemed too good to be true. “I would love to go with you,” I finally said.

This time, it was Marek’s turn to stare. “You would?” he replied in surprise.

I nodded, a smile coming to my lips at his obvious shock. I glanced back at Raven. Both he and May were watching us with matching grins on their faces. Raven gave me a thumbs-up.

“Wait a minute,” Marek said. My heart fell, but when I glanced at him, he was looking at May in the rearview mirror. “I wouldn’t have to wear a wig, would I?” May giggled. “Of course,” he continued, adjusting the mirror so he could see himself. He ran a hand through his wavy black hair. It fell stubbornly back in front of his eyes. “It might be an improvement.”

“I like your hair,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. I turned red again.

“You do?” Marek glanced at me, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“If it gets more mushy in here, I’m going to hurl!” Raven whispered loudly to May. She giggled again.

I sat back in my seat with a smile on my face that refused to go away.

***

We had just passed a slow-moving U-haul when Marek sat up straight, immediately alert.

“What is it?” Raven asked from the back seat. The car was suddenly filled with thick tension.

Marek motioned ahead. Squinting, I let out a gasp. Four black cars sat on the right-hand side of the road, waiting. “This is a lonely road for a stake-out,” Marek said quietly. He reached for the handgun he had hidden under the seat before we left.

The cars pulled out slowly, waiting for us to catch up. Marek scanned the area, but there were no side roads, nowhere to run. This was a plain four-lane highway straight to Vernon with little to see but farmland.

We passed the first two cars and they promptly fell in close behind. I tried to peer through the windows, but the tint was so dark I couldn’t see the occupants. The other two cars drove on either side of the little Neon, taking up part of a lane for oncoming traffic. Luckily, few cars were out. The sun was fading behind a low plateau to the west.

The cars moved in slowly. “Marek!” I said in warning.

“I know,” he replied through gritted teeth. He fought to control the wheel when the cars jammed us in the middle.

“Get us outta here. They can shoot us through the windows,” Raven said with an arm around May. The little girl looked terrified, her face pale and eyes wide.

“Hang on,” Marek commanded. He stomped on the gas.

Everything happened in slow motion. The little Neon gunned bravely ahead of the cars on either side. Just before we cleared the cars, however, the vehicle on the left swerved in, clipping the Neon hard on the back bumper. Our car spun to the left with the impact.

The car that had hit us rammed the driver side next to where Raven sat. The grind of metal on metal filled the air. The Neon continued to spin with the force of the impact. The car that had been behind us to the left hit us head on. I heard screaming as our car lurched with the impact. The air bags exploded with the smell of toxic fumes. Glass crunched as the car crumpled in on itself.

Then it was over. A car horn sounded continuously. I fought to keep from passing out. My head ached, pain radiating from where I had hit it on the passenger window. Then I remembered. Falconans. We had to escape.

“May!” I shouted.

“It’s okay,” Raven said from behind me. “I’ve got her.” The door groaned in protest when he forced it open.

“Stay down!” Marek ordered. “We don’t know how many there are.” Blood ran down the side of his face from a gash above his eyebrow. He looked me over quickly, then glanced in the back seat; relief reflected in his eyes that everyone was alright.

Marek kicked out the broken windshield, then climbed cautiously onto the hood of the car. A shot rang out. Marek dove off the hood and rolled, shooting as he came back to his feet. Two Falconans from the untouched car that had pulled over on the side of the road fell to the ground.

Marek turned in a circle, shooting with a precision that told of years of preparation for just such a situation. He hit the gas tank of the car that had clipped us. It caught fire in a roar of bright light. He shot two more Falconans who attempted to escape the flaming car.

“Get out,” Marek shouted.

Raven and I obeyed and left out opposite sides of the vehicle just before it was peppered with bullets. The muzzle of an automatic rifle showed through the cracked window of a car across the road from us. Marek returned fire, shattering the window. We heard a scream from the occupant of the car.

“Get in the ditch!” Marek yelled over the sound of gunfire.

Raven ran with May in his arms and had almost reached the ditch that followed alongside the road when two shots rang out. Raven spun with the force of the blow. He stumbled to his knees, staring down at May.

“No!” Marek and I said in unison. Marek growled the word between bared teeth; I gasped it.

A flower of red appeared on May’s shirt. Her face grew pale as she stared at Marek. “No!” Marek shouted again. He spun toward the shooter and pulled the trigger. The click of an empty chamber sounded loud in the chaos. Marek threw down the gun and ran at the triumphant Ras who stood unafraid with a taunting grin on his face. Just before Marek reached him, Ras shot again. Marek dove and tackled him below the knees.

Before I could cry a warning, two more Falconans were there pulling him off. They held Marek up. Ras punched him in the stomach again and again, enjoying the way he gasped for breath. Pain showed on his face, but Marek refused to cry out.

I searched around wildly. My heart slowed when I saw a gun lying on the road where it had been dropped by one of the wounded Falconans. I ran and picked it up. My hands were shaking. I aimed, afraid of hitting Marek. He fell to his knees. I squeezed the trigger.

The Falconan on Marek’s right crumpled to the ground. Marek took advantage of the diversion and swung his elbow up and back from where he knelt on the ground, catching the other Falconan in the solar plexus. When the Falconan doubled over, Marek jumped up and kneed him in the head. He crumpled to the ground.

Ras backed up, the gun in his hand once more. “I could shoot you,” he said in a calm voice. “But I prefer that you suffer before you die.”

He got into the car on the shoulder of the road, his gun still aimed at Marek. “No one is ever safe, Marek, especially with you,” he said; his yellow eyes shifted to mine for a brief second. Marek ran at him with a growl, but the Falconan gunned the gas and took off down the road.

Marek turned back. I was already running to Raven. The bird Shifter held May, tears streaming down his cheeks. Blood flowed from a bullet wound in his arm, but he didn’t care. May was gone.

Marek stared at the little girl, unwilling to believe his eyes. His chest heaved, his eyes battling between blue and gold. He tried to speak, shook his head, then grabbed the gun from my hand. With ruthless efficiency, he put extra rounds into each of the slain Falconans, tears mingling with the blood on his cheeks.

Marek then removed his jacket and took May’s body gently from Raven. He wrapped her in his coat as if she was still alive and just sleeping. I could almost pretend his jacket was just there to shield her from the cold.

He held her for a few minutes, her head resting under his chin, his arms shaking. His jaw was gritted so tight I was afraid his teeth would break, but before I could think of anything to say, Marek set May tenderly in the back seat of one of the Falconan’s cars. As I watched helplessly, he went back to the destroyed Neon and returned with her teddy bear.

Marek tore a page out of the phone book Mom carried in her car. With a careful, accurate hand that trembled slightly from the dawning impact of all that had just happened, he penned May’s name along with her grandmother’s name and address. Brushing the tears from his eyes in frustration, he wrote a brief synopsis of what had happened to her and how she had been trying to come home.

Marek tucked the note under the ribbon around the bear’s neck, then gently set the bear in the crook of her arm. “They have a right to know,” he said quietly. “They have a right to know how she died, how they killed her.” A sob escaped him when he shut the door, hiding her from view. “They killed her,” he said even quieter, his words almost a growl.

“Marek, I. . . .” Raven stumbled forward, clutching his arm. Blood flowed between his fingers. His face was white.

Marek caught him, holding him up. “Rave, you’ve been shot!” he said in shock. He helped Raven to the back of the other black car that had been unscathed by the evening’s gunfight. I followed behind feeling helpless, sad, and emptier then I had ever felt before. I kept seeing May in my mind, the way her brown curls fell around her soft cheeks, her eyes closed as though sleeping.

“Kyla,” Marek repeated. His firm hand on my arm broke through the haze. I stared at him. “We’ve got to get Raven to your dad. He’s lost a lot of blood.” I couldn’t gather my thoughts; they raced in a matted jumble through my brain, making no sense. “Kyla,” Marek repeated again, quieter. “I need you to drive the car to your dad’s clinic. Can you do that?”

I nodded. I got behind the wheel and started the engine, my motions automatic. Marek sat in the back next to Raven. The wolf Shifter pulled off his shirt and tied it around Raven’s arm to staunch the flow of blood. At his nod, I drove back toward the city. The trip was silent except for Raven’s ragged breathing. The hum of the road seemed shockingly normal after the terror of the evening.

We had just entered the outskirts of Charlton when Marek whispered something. He sat up, then said it louder. “Ras said, ‘No one is ever safe, Marek, especially with you,’ right?” I nodded, remembering the Falconan’s deadly calm and the shock of his yellow eyes as he looked directly at me. My heart grew cold. “He was looking at you when he said it, wasn’t he?” Marek sat up ramrod straight. I nodded, realizing what Marek did. “Your family, Kyla. They know where you live!”

Marek glanced at Raven, his eyes searching. The bird Shifter nodded. “Go. Save them; hurry!” he said, his face growing even paler.

“Get to your house,” Marek said urgently. “Drive there as fast as you can.”

Before I could question his intentions, Marek had opened his door and jumped out. He shifted into wolf form before his feet touched the ground. The black wolf disappeared down a side alley at a mile-eating lope.

Chapter 30- Marek

My heart pounded, my mind racing. Falconans at the Marchs’. I had to get there in time. I couldn’t let them end up like May.

My paws drummed along the pavement as I practically flew down alleys and side streets, cutting through the trees at Mason’s Park, then thundering up the next road. There was a car out front, a black one with tinted windows.

Without hesitation, I dove through the living room window and placed myself between Kyla’s family and the two armed Falconans. A deep growl ripped from my throat.

Chapter 31- Kyla

I ran into the house, leaving Raven in the safety of the car. The door was wide open and blood and glass were everywhere. Mom and Dad stood up quickly from where they sat on the couch, Rosie wide-eyed between them.

“Kyla, oh thank goodness!” Mom exclaimed with a sob. She threw her arms around me, holding me tight.

“We were worried sick,” Dad said, holding Rosie as though he would never let her go.

“What happened?” I asked as soon as I could get free from their embraces.

Mom started to tremble and Dad put his free arm around her. “We were eating dinner when someone pounded on the door. Before I could open it, two Falconans burst in with guns. They made us get Rosie, then said they were going to kill all of us, but they never said why.” Dad looked at the shattered window. “Before I could do anything, a big black wolf jumped through the window and fought them. They finally left, or he would have killed them.”

I looked at the blood splattered across the floor. “Where-”

“In your room,” Dad answered before I could finish. “Kip wouldn’t let us up there. He said you knew the wolf, that he was your friend.”

Turning without a word, I took the stairs two at a time, trying hard not to notice the bloody tracks I followed. Kip ran to meet me when I reached the top. I hugged him tight, my tears wetting his shirt.

“He saved us, Kyla,” Kip said. “He fought them and chased them off. He dove through the window.” His voice cracked. I nodded and let him go. He made his way slowly down the stairs.

I took a calming breath, then opened the door to my room. Blood streaked the floor. I followed it to where Marek stood by my bed, wearily pulling a worn tee-shirt over his head. He had found the small pile of clothes I had stuffed into the back of my closet from when he was in the tree house. He looked ready to collapse. Blood coated the side of his face from the gash above his brow. His neck was scratched and bleeding. His hands were red where the glass had cut his paws on the living room floor. Tears no longer fell from his blue eyes, but he looked sad, tired, and determined.

“I’ve got to stop them, Kyla,” he said in a tone that was firm and empty. “They won’t stop until they’ve destroyed us all. I’ve brought this on your family.”

I shook my head, horrified. “No, Marek. What about May? What about the other Lost? The Falconans are the ones who took them. They did this.”

Marek didn’t seem to hear my words. He made his way past me out the door and down the hall. He stumbled slightly before he reached the stairs. He steadied himself against the wall, then stared at the bloody handprint he left there. He clenched his fists and made his way down the stairs. I followed slowly, searching for words to stop him, to turn him back from the suicidal intentions I saw on his face, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Marek!” Mom said softly as if he was a ghost.

Marek shook his head to clear the blood-soaked hair from his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, unable to meet my parents’ eyes. He stood there, uncertain.

“Sorry?” Dad repeated. “You saved my family. You-”

Marek shook his head again as if trying to erase Dad’s words. “I’ve endangered your family. I brought this to you. This is my fault.” He took a step toward the still-open front door, his steps faltering slightly.

“Marek, they would have killed us,” Mom said, her voice shaking. She stood by Dad with her hands on Kip’s shoulders. Kip nodded.

“They’ve got to be stopped,” Marek continued as if he didn’t hear her. “They’ll find the Den. They’ll kill the pack.” He looked back at me. The pain in his eyes tore at my heart. “I’ve got to stop it, Kyla. Take care of Raven, okay?” Without waiting for me to nod, he left through the open door into the darkness. I heard his footsteps speed up to a run that faded into the night.

I looked back. Mom and Dad were watching me. I rushed to avoid their questions. “I’ll tell you everything, but first, Raven’s been shot. He’s in the car.”

***

It took longer than I thought it would to explain what I had experienced in the past few weeks. Kip helped me when I faltered. I was grateful my parents didn’t ask questions. They sat on the floor in Kip’s room; Raven, his arm cleaned, stitched, and bound, lay in the bed. Kip stood by the dark bedroom window while I sat on the edge of the bed, twirling the necklace between my fingers in a reassuringly normal action that soothed my nerves. I ended with Ras shooting May and Raven, the fight, and then our rush back home.

“So where did Marek go?” Mom asked quietly. She and Dad held hands, their fingers intertwined between them.

I shook my head, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. “I don’t know, but if they find him, they’ll kill him. I just know it.”

Dad rose to his feet, helping Mom up. “Then why are we sitting here?” he asked. Raven made as if to get up, too, but Dad shook his head. “You’ll stay with Kip. I need you boys to watch over Mom and Rosie, got it?” Both boys nodded.

Mom looked at Dad, her face calm but eyes worried. “The gun’s in the safe,” she reminded him.

He met her gaze. “You’ll be okay?”

At her brave nod, he hugged her tight, gave her a kiss, then turned and motioned for me. “Let’s go.”

Chapter 32- Marek

I ran. I didn’t know where I was going and didn’t care. “Ras!” I shouted, my voice echoing through the building-lined streets. “Ras, where are you?” Shadows played havoc with my eyes, their edges blurred and ever-changing. “Ras!”

A noise sounded on my right. I spun on my heels, my knees bent, ready for attack. I breathed in the night air. My wolf senses lit like a flame. Ras was near. “Show yourself, you coward,” I spat. My head pounded, my heart filled with a pain I knew didn’t come from external wounds.

“Coward, am I?” I spun again. Ras was behind me, a red-tipped flame in the streetlight. I squinted and the vision dissolved to show the red-and-gold Falconan, his wings outstretched, a knife in one hand and a gun in the other. “You’re the one who’s running.” The words were cold, slithering as though crawling with snakes.

“To find you,” I growled. I circled slowly.

“For what?” Ras gave a cruel laugh. “Justice? Truth? You’re blind to the truth, Marek, and justice doesn’t exist among brothers.”

I stopped short. “What did you say?”

Ras paused, then laughed again. “Oh, the irony! All this time, I thought you knew. I thought that was why you fought me so hard, but never seemed able to kill me. You, with mercy and hope as your shields. Save the Lost so they don’t become like Shane.” He spat the name like a foul-tasting curse.

I stared at Ras, my will dissolving. “Shane?”

Ras pointed his gun at me. “Little Shane is no longer here, brother. Galbran, my true father now, has turned me into an efficient killing machine.” He shook his head, his red-tipped hair waving like fire in the light of the street lamp behind him. “I don’t feel your pain.”

The shot sounded and a red-hot iron seared low into my left shoulder. I stumbled with the force of the blow. My mind screamed for me to fight back, but my body wouldn’t respond. All I could think of was Shane and Ras, the two ends of the spectrum I could never face, and yet they were the same person. Another gunshot. Pain blossomed from my thigh. Glancing down, I saw blood spread through my pant leg. In my mind, I saw blood from another wound. A pale little hand. I fell to my knees, lights flashing in my fading vision.

“I wish I could kill you,” Ras said in a tone of longing. “But Galbran wanted me to bring you back home. Home to the labs you left me at so long ago, the labs where you first failed your little brother.” Ras walked behind me. He raised the gun.

Pain exploded from the gun butt against my skull and I fell forward on the pavement. I rolled over, my thoughts sluggish. Even the voice urging me to fight was quiet now. Ras’ head blotted out the faint stars above. “Nighty-night, big brother,” he said with a cruel laugh. My vision went dark.

Chapter 33- Kyla

I drove through the Downs to the Den, my dad in the passenger seat. He didn’t question me when I pulled up next to the warehouse. I led him quickly through the machines, down the ramp, and into the Den. Without giving him time to take in the view from the landing, I ran down the steps and out into the main room.

Some of the Lost were in their beds asleep. The remaining few watched Aladdin from the couches. I ran straight to where Flint sat at the computer, searching through more missing posters. He turned when he heard my footsteps.

“Where are the labs?” I asked breathlessly. Flint looked wide-eyed from me to Dad. I followed his gaze. “He’s my dad,” I reassured the Shifter. “He’s okay. I need to know where the labs are. I think they’ve got Marek.”

At the mention of Marek’s name, Flint’s eyes grew wider. He jumped up, ran to the charts and maps on one of the tables, and began to ruffle through them.

“These are the Lost?” Dad asked quietly from behind me.

“Some of them,” I replied. I knelt to look under the computer table. Whisper was there, curled up asleep on a blanket.

Dad seemed as relieved as I felt upon seeing her. “They’re safe here,” I reassured him. “The Falconans haven’t been able to find this place.” While I helped Flint look, Dad walked quietly around the Den. He had just disappeared down the hall between the bedrooms when he returned walking quickly backwards, his hands raised. Phoenix appeared with a gun drawn.

“No, Phoenix!” I said, running to stop him.

Phoenix lowered his gun slightly. “Is this a friend of yours?” he questioned.

I nodded. “Phoenix, Dad, Dad, Phoenix,” I introduced hurriedly. “Marek’s in trouble and Raven’s been shot,” I continued. At Phoenix’s shocked look, I rushed on. “We were ambushed on the road. May was killed and Raven was shot in the arm. He’ll be okay, but Marek left. I’m worried they have him.”

I could see the change the news about May had on the tough Shifter. He fell into a chair next to Flint, his gun forgotten in his lap. “What do we do?” he asked quietly.

Flint looked up, too, his eyes intent. “We save Marek,” I replied without hesitation. “Just like he’s done for each of us.”

Flint glanced down, grabbed the corner of a protruding, blue-lined map, then waved it with a flourish. Closer surveillance proved it to be not a map, but a blueprint. “The blueprint of the labs?” I asked. Flint nodded.

“Good,” Phoenix said. “Let’s go.

Chapter 34- Marek

I came to slowly. My head pounded and my mouth was dry. A smell touched my nose, one that drew all my senses together with a stab of fear. The labs. I was back. The realization came with a flood of memories. Kyla. Raven. May. Grief hit harder than the dawning pain that rolled in nauseating waves from my shoulder and thigh. Little May. I had killed her. Ras.

My eyes flew opened, filling with tears. Ras, Shane, had killed May. I curled into a fetal position, my hands holding my head heedless of the unstaunched flow of blood from the bullet wounds. How could I have failed so miserably? How could this be the end? Did it really happen? It was too terrible, too horrifying. Maybe, just maybe. I shuddered. No, it had happened. I could still feel her in my arms, could see the teddy bear tucked under her arm, the note in its ribbon.

Fury, pain, and despair hit so strong that I rose, clenched my damaged hands around the bars of the cage in which I was imprisoned, and cried out wordlessly in a mixture of a howl and a wail of defeat. The sound echoed around the walls of the empty, white-walled laboratory. I let my hands drop, exhausted. I had expelled more energy that I could spare with the flow of blood leaving my body, but I no longer cared.

I slid so that my back was resting against the side bars of the cage. I avoided looking at my wounds. I couldn’t change my situation, and so, wolf-like, I accepted it for what it was. I had failed those I loved most in the world, had seen a Lost child die in the arms of my best friend, and had brought danger to the family of the girl I loved.

That realization surprised me.

Deep down, I knew how much I cared about Kyla, even if we had only known each other for a few short weeks. There was something about her that was different, something that drew me in and bade me to trust her. I shook my head, then grabbed it in my hands to staunch the rolls of nausea the action caused. At least I wouldn’t bring her more pain, I thought, my teeth clenched. I knew she and the others would find a way to get the rest of the Lost home.

They would take care of the little ones, of Whisper. I felt a sharp stab of guilt, as if I betrayed the little Shifter by giving up. She was like my sister, like the brother I had failed. Was I going to fail her, too?

I doubled over, clutching my throbbing shoulder. My hands came away slick with dark red blood. I stared at them for a minute, clenched my fist, and stared at the fine white scar along the back. I was in a cage, a wild animal shut away from the world. The sterile scent of the room forced its way through the pain. Something was strange about it.

I let my thoughts wander dazedly. Suddenly, I jerked my head up despite a fresh roll of nausea. I studied the room I had lived in for six years, most of it spent in this very cage. Something was indeed wrong. Not only was there no one in the room, there was no one in the building that I could smell. From the staleness of the air, it had been over a week since anyone had worked here.

This was it, then. I had been left to die. A wave of bitterness left a foul taste in my mouth. My shoulder and thigh began to throb, pulsing blood out with each heartbeat. I allowed myself to slide down onto my back, my blood pooling around me. The pain intensified.

I shut my eyes against the glare of the flickering neon lights above me, then opened them again. Something was on top of the cage. Reaching up with my right hand, I worked the object between the bars. I settled back against the side, fighting a drowsiness that felt deeper than normal exhaustion. The object was a tape recorder with an unlabeled tape inside. I pushed the play button, my finger staining it red. A pit formed in my stomach at the sound of Galbran’s voice.

“Marek, my boy, where do I begin?” the voice said in a tone that was at the same time chiding and astonished, as though Galbran had been shaking his head in amazement. “You have turned out to be my greatest failure.”

I gave a small smile. At least I did something right.

“By now, you know that Ras is your brother. You could have given up your search years ago if only you’d trusted that I knew what was best for both of you.

“I know that you went back to your parents after you escaped, and I knew what would happen. You’ve got to think these things through, Marek. No one is going to let a wild beast into their home. Why? Because no beast is trustworthy.

“You may ask, then, why I created you the way you are, and Ras and the Falconans. It’s because of that same fact. Something that can’t be trusted will always be considered a threat. What better way is there to keep a country in check than to ‘protect’ it with something that threatens not only its enemies, but its inhabitants?”

A deep chill filled my bones and a shudder ran through my body. I slid back down so that I rested on my back and sat the tape recorder on my chest. I closed my eyes, taking in Galbran’s hateful voice.

“And you could have led all of this, Marek. I raised you as my own son. I cared about you, taught you how to fight, how to defend yourself. But you wanted only freedom, a true wolf in a cage. The problem is, when you left, you realized you no longer had a place in your human family. You didn’t have a pack to run to.”

Galbran’s voice dropped. “The ironic thing about all of this is that you aren’t even Marek.” My heart slowed. “No one can survive the DNA mutation required for what we do. The human and wolf parts that make you up died. You are neither one, nor the other. I wasn’t surprised when you called yourself Marek, when you remembered your family, your brother, but I should have told you that those memories weren’t even yours. You used to tell me the dreams you had about running through a forest. Well, that wolf is dead, too. You are nothing, no one.”

My breath came in short, controlled bursts. I held the tape recorder in my right hand so tightly against my chest that my knuckles ached.

“And now you shall die as the wolf did, alone, unloved, and unmourned.”

The tape continued to run, but it was the end of the recording. I stared at the neon lights that shone through the bars of my cage, willing myself to believe Galbran’s words, to give up, to let my soul escape my worthless body. If I had a soul, I reminded myself; a single tear traced its way down my cheek.

Did it matter? I was nothing, no one, not even the rightful bearer of the name I knew myself by. It was just a name.

But something inside of me refused to give up. This wasn’t how I was supposed to die. I refused to lie down quietly and will my lungs to stop taking in air. I saw myself talking to Kyla and heard my own words. “No matter what happens to us, we choose how we want to feel because of it. That is what makes us who we are. They can do anything to us, but as long as we keep what’s in here safe, and as long as we stay true to our own selves, we have power over everything, the world, even.”

“The power to change the world?” Kyla had sounded a bit skeptical, but I could tell she was trying to understand.

“If we choose to believe it.”

Filled with anger and frustration, I hit the ground with my clenched fist, then stifled a cry as pain tore through my shoulder. I chose to live. I would defy Galbran with my life. I rose to my knees, my body growing numb. I punched the door of the cage again and again, then kicked it, ignoring the pain in my lacerated bare feet. The door didn’t budge, as it hadn’t when I was young and full of determination to save everyone, to find my brother. I couldn’t hope for someone to carelessly miss-check the lock on my cage again.

I was breathing hard when I collapsed on the floor of my cage, my heart pounding the life blood from my body.

Chapter 35- Kyla

I ran through the empty building, my sneakers slapping the cold floor. Dad and Phoenix followed behind, double-checking the rooms I had glanced in. “Marek!” I yelled. But the only answer was the echo of my voice along the long, dark hall.

I squinted. Was that a light at the end of the hallway? The slight beam from the bottom of a door could have been a trick of my eyes, but I held onto the hope. I ran past the unchecked rooms, my heart pounding. He had to be there, he just had to. I wouldn’t allow myself to question whether he was still alive.

I burst into the room, my eyes watering in the sudden light. It was a laboratory room like the others, full of empty cages, microscopes, computers, and, “Marek!”

I crossed the room and dropped to my knees in front of the cage. “Oh, Marek. I thought I’d never find you! We’ve gone through most of the building.” I talked quickly, forcing myself to keep fumbling with the lock and not check if he was listening, if he could even hear me. My only direct stare had found him lying still at the bottom of the cage covered in his own blood. He hadn’t opened his eyes when I said his name.

“We’ll get you out of here, Marek. We’ll take you home. Dad’ll take care of you, like he did Raven. He’s so good at what he does.” The lock blurred behind my tears. My fingers slipped.

“Kyla, stand back,” Dad said softly. His hands were gentle but firm on my shoulders. I rose, shaking, and he put his arms around me to hold me up.

Phoenix brought the butt of his gun down on the lock three times, then four, five. It didn’t budge. He stepped to the side of the cage and aimed. The gunshot made me jump, my nerves frazzled by the day’s events.

Marek stirred, a groan forcing its way through his clenched jaw. Phoenix dropped to his knees. “Come on, buddy,” he said. He lifted Marek out of the pool of blood as easily as if the wolf Shifter weighed less than Whisper.

I followed Phoenix in a daze. Dad held me up with an arm around my shoulders. Marek’s hand hung down and blood dripped a trail from the wound in his shoulder. He turned his head, his eyes half closed. “You came for me,” he whispered.

My heart leaped at the sound of his voice.

Phoenix nodded. From my side-view, I could see the glisten of tears on the muscular cougar Shifter’s cheeks. “We’re a pack,” he said quietly. “We stick together.” The smallest of smiles appeared on Marek’s lips, then he withdrew back into himself and his eyes closed.

“Dad?” I asked fearfully.

Dad nodded. “I know. We’ve got to get him to the clinic. I can’t do anything for him until we get there.” He hurried forward to open a door for Phoenix, then led the way to the car.

I followed along behind, more afraid than I had ever been before. Bullets whizzing past me hadn’t scared me like this. I knew Marek was dying. He couldn’t die.

“Can you climb in on the other side and support his head?” Phoenix asked me gently.

With Dad’s help, Phoenix lowered Marek onto the back seat of the Falconan’s black car. I ran to the other side and helped them ease him into a lying position across the seats. Phoenix tore off his shirt and Dad packed it against Marek’s bleeding wounds.

Phoenix hurried to the front passenger seat and Dad gunned the engine. We raced down the empty road, our headlights cutting through the night.

I didn’t dare do more than smooth the hair back from Marek’s closed eyes. With his head on my lap, I could see the horrible condition he was in. The gash on his forehead had created a sticky mat of dried blood down the side of his face. His clothes, taken from my closet only hours before, were almost black with blood and debris. The cloth Dad had put on the bullet wounds was already thick with dark red blood. Marek moaned quietly with each breath.

“Talk to him, Kyla,” Dad urged, watching me from the rearview mirror. “He needs to know he’s safe.”

I had heard him say the same thing about the half-wild, abandoned dogs people found and brought to the clinic. They feared another beating and expected through experience that each touch meant new pain. I spoke quietly in the soft cadence I used to soothe them. “It’s okay. You’re safe here.”

He turned his head slightly toward the sound of my voice. I ran a hand through his hair, hoping to cool his fevered forehead. ‘Marek, you’ve got to make it. You can’t let go now,’ I thought with each touch, willing him to feel my strength, my love.

We pulled up to the clinic. Dad ran inside to turn on the lights and prepare a table, then he returned to help Phoenix carry the Shifter. I followed them, but Dad shook his head when I tried to enter the small operating room. “Not this time, baby,” he said gently. “Phoenix will help me. You need to go lay down before you fall over.” He gave me a small, tight smile. “I’ve got enough to worry about without you having a major catastrophe, too.”

I let the door swing shut. I had attended my fair share of surgeries at the clinic. The fact that Dad wouldn’t let me inside attested to how serious Marek’s injuries were. Every nerve in my body screamed for me to go in there anyway, to hold Marek’s hand, to make sure he knew I was there; but deep down, I knew Dad was right, I couldn’t handle seeing him go through that after everything else that had happened. Dad would see to it that his wounds were tended as much as they could be; then it was up to Marek.

I went out to let the night air dry my face. The car doors were still open. I moved to close them when I saw a small tape recorder where Marek had been lying on the seat. It was covered in blood and had stopped at the end of the tape. I looked down at the soaked seat fabric, then at the tape recorder. I hesitated, then picked it up and pushed the rewind button.

By the end of the short recording, I felt like throwing the tape into the street and running it over with the car. It made me madder than I had ever felt before to think of Marek in that cage, bleeding to death, listening about how his whole life had been a sham. A cry sounded from the clinic loud enough to silence the crickets that had filled the night air with their songs.

I rose from where I leaned on the hood of the car. Another shout of pain shattered the night, followed by a plea. I couldn’t make out the words, but could see Marek in my mind’s eye begging them to leave in the bullets, to stop the pain. I hoped he didn’t ask them to let him die.

Another yell sounded, but it was quieter this time. I strained my ears, but only silence followed. I realized I was clutching the tape recorder so hard my fingers hurt. I slid it into the pocket of my sweatshirt, hating its small, cold weight. I looked up at what I could see of the stars. ‘If anyone can hear me,’ I begged in my own plea, ‘Please let him live.’

Chapter 36- Marek

Pain invaded every dream until reality and sleep became one endlessly red glowing blur. Mom swept the hair from my forehead with her gentle fingers, her smile kind and bright.

“You brought Shane home,” she said. “You did such a good job. Matthew’s waiting to play with you.”

But whenever I turned to see him, Matthew vanished and Ras’ laughing face took his place, taunting me and threatening to steal him away forever.

I saw the Den on fire, the machines glowing bright orange with heat as they collapsed in on the floor below. I couldn’t tell if the sounds that followed were screams or just the protests of the warehouse as the wood was consumed.

I was running, but my paws fell on glass instead of a road. Each step brought pain through my limbs, but I couldn’t stop. I had to save them, though I didn’t know if I ran to save the Marchs, my pack, Matthew, May, or Shane. In the dream, it didn’t matter. I just kept running.

I was at the car, bullets shattering windshields and the flash of gunshots bright through a pitch black night. I heard the two shots over and over again followed by the sound of them striking Raven and May. I tried every time to jump in their way, to attack Ras before he could lift his gun, or to run with May myself, but every time the result was the same.

I stared at her closed eyes and the blossom of red on her chest while Ras laughed his merciless, soulless laugh; but when I looked up, I saw Shane instead of Ras, my brother’s blue eyes circled with yellow, and feathers sprouting along his arms. He tried to take May, but I wouldn’t let him touch her.

Eventually the dreams lessened to a quieter place of darkness edged in red. I could smell Kyla’s soft scent and followed it, straining my eyes to see what was beyond the black so thick I could barely breathe. I searched everywhere for her and longed for her touch the way a drowning man longs for air.

Chapter 37- Kyla

Marek slept three days without change in Kip’s bed. My parents debated each night about whether they should have taken him to a hospital, but Kip and I reminded them that his life wouldn’t be the only one hanging by a thread if they took him in. The penalty for aiding a Shifter came with a hefty jail sentence, and that was if you were lucky. The government tried hard to smother its mistakes.

I sat against the wall by Kip’s bed late the third night. My parents had let me skip school the past two days so I could recover from everything we had been through. I spent the time between the old tree and Kip’s room hoping Marek would pull through. Dad came in often to feel his forehead, peer into his eyes, and check the bandaging; he always left with a small shake of his head.

Mom spent most of her time cooking. I had promised to take her to the Downs with Marek’s permission when he woke up, and she spent every waking minute fixing food and supplies she felt the Lost and Shifters needed. I knew she especially looked forward to seeing Whisper again.

Fellow was another one who searched for any sign of change. He slept over Marek’s feet, unmoving except to follow me to the tree and back. I had dozed off on a chair, my head against the wall, when I heard Fellow stir. His dog tags jingled as he sat up, staring expectantly at Marek’s face. My heart skipped a beat when I saw that his eyes were open.

I stumbled to the side of the bed, my heart pounding. “Marek, I. . . .”

He tried to speak, but his throat was dry. I helped him sip a tiny bit of water from the cup I had put on the nightstand and replaced every night so he would have fresh water if he awoke. He coughed, wincing weakly with the pain. “The tape?” he managed to get out.

I nodded, a pit in my stomach. I had hoped he would somehow forget it. “I put it in the back of my closet,” I said quietly. “No one will find it there.”

He nodded, looked like he wanted to say something else, then turned his head away. His hair fell over the neatly sewn gash above his eyebrow. I hesitated, then swept his hair aside gently. He looked back at me. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Marek.” I didn’t know what to say. If only he hadn’t heard the tape. If only May was alive and Raven hadn’t been shot. If only Marek wasn’t a Shifter. I caught myself.

“I’m no one,” Marek said so softly I barely heard him.

“No, that’s not true.”

Marek shook his head against my words, his eyes closed tight. He was quiet for so long I wondered if he had fallen asleep again, but then he whispered haltingly, “He was my brother. He shot her. He didn’t care.”

“It wasn’t Shane that did that,” I replied. I moved onto the bed so that I sat near his pillow, careful not to make the mattress move.

“I should have found him, Kyla. I shouldn’t have given up the search. I could have prevented all of this.” His eyes were still closed and his voice weak.

I shook my head. “You never stopped searching. I know you didn’t, Marek.” He opened his eyes and looked up at me as if willing himself to believe my words. “Every group of Lost you found, you were searching for him. Every time one made it home, you wished it was him. You didn’t fail him, Marek. He failed you by allowing himself to become what he is.”

Marek shook his head again, his eyes on the opposite wall. He forced the words out. “If I had brought him home, May would be alive, my parents would be happy, and maybe I could have gone home as well.”

“What about the Lost?” I asked softly. “What about Whisper, Raven, and the others. They needed you, and still do. I need you.” I swallowed against a knot in my throat. “Family is not who you’re born to, Marek. Family is made of the people who love and depend on you, who deserve you, and who would fight and die for you. They need you around and they. . .Marek, I. . . I need you. . .I love you.”

He met my eyes again and held them. For the first time, I saw tiny flecks of gold in the blue, a reminder of all he was, of how different he was. I didn’t care. I bent slowly and kissed him lightly on the lips; he kissed me back as softly. His lips were warm.

I sat back, suddenly embarrassed to look at him. “Kyla?” he asked, his voice hesitant. I turned back to him. “I need to sleep,” he said in a tone that was apologetic, yet begging me to understand. “Would you stay with me?” His voice fell to a whisper. “I’m afraid to dream.”

I nodded wordlessly. I moved over so that my back was against a pillow by the wall. Marek fell asleep with his head on my lap, my fingers entwined in his tangled hair. I leaned against the wall and thought about the tape.

***

When I woke up next to Marek, his good arm was around my shoulders and Dad was checking his wounds. I gave him an embarrassed smile, but he merely nodded warmly. Apparently, the fact that Marek was awake surpassed the other fact that his daughter had fallen asleep under the arm of a wolf Shifter. I felt Marek take a sharp breath in response to Dad’s careful fingers on his shoulder. I sat up slowly, anxious not to jolt the bed.

“Good morning.” Marek’s voice was quiet, but stronger than last night.

I looked down and saw that he was watching me; there was a bit of color in his pale cheeks. “Good morning,” I replied, feeling suddenly shy. I rose, mumbled a quick hello to Dad, then made my way to my room.

Once alone, a confusion of emotions battled my calm façade. I sat down on my bed and picked up Sammy, the small teddy bear I had kept since I was little. The worn black eyes stared at me blankly, offering no answers to the questions I couldn’t put into words. I stared out the window until a tap on my door brought me back.

“Come in,” I said quietly, though I really didn’t feel like talking to anyone.

Mom entered the room, Rosie on her hip. She put the toddler on the floor and Rosie quickly occupied herself with emptying the contents of my backpack. Mom sat onto the bed near me and kicked off her shoes. She sighed and settled back. “I hope those kids like home cooking, because they’re getting plenty of it,” she said with a tired, satisfied smile.

“What time did you get up this morning?” I asked her curiously.

“Early,” Mom replied with an evasive smile. “I saw that Marek looked a bit better, and figured I should get a head start if we’ll be going over to the, uh, whatever you call it, soon.”

“The Den, Mom,” I replied with a laugh. “And I think you got a head start three days ago.”

“You can never have enough good food,” Mom said, quoting her plump mother-in-law with an exact impersonation of her what-I-say-goes manner. We both giggled, relieved at the lightening mood.

“I worry about you,” Mom said after a few moments of comfortable silence in which Rosie decided she was bored with the backpack and moved on to my music collection.

“No, no, Rosie,” I chided gently. The little girl grinned at me and continued pulling out the cases and stacking them into a tower. I gave up and let myself ask, “Why?” I feared my parents would forbid me from seeing Marek. I knew I had really pushed it by falling asleep next to him, but that was an accident; I couldn’t have said no to Marek’s plea for a friend to help keep the nightmares at bay. But Mom’s answer surprised me.

“You’re growing up so fast.” Mom gently took the bear from my hands. She ran familiar fingers over its thread-bare fur. “It seems like just yesterday you were toddling around the house. Dad used to take you to the clinic to see all the new puppies.” She smiled. “I remember Grandpa carrying you through the woods on his shoulders. You both had matching smiles of pure happiness.”

Mom gave a small shake of her head. “It just seems like life is getting darker, more survival than living.”

I had never heard my mother talk like this. She seemed so sad, like she had lost something she couldn’t get back. “I still enjoy things, Mom. It’s not all bad.”

Mom smiled. “I know.” She brushed a strand of my wayward hair behind my ear. “I just feel like you’re getting too many realities of life too quickly.”

I thought of what I had learned of Marek’s past, of being shot at by Falconans, of seeing May die, and of seeing Marek so close to following her. I nodded. I understood exactly what Mom meant.

“Just promise me something,” Mom said, rising and handing Sammy back to me. She bent down and started to stack the music back on my shelf.

“Okay,” I said, joining her. Rosie giggled and tried to unstack the cases as fast as we stacked them.

“Promise me you’ll take time out just to be a teenager.”

I nodded, smiling. “I will, Mom. Don’t worry.”

Mom picked up Rosie and stood, finally convinced that the music would never get put back with Rosie’s helpful assistance. She glanced at a picture on my dresser of me and Dad dressed up for a daddy-daughter date at the middle school years ago.

I caught her wistful smile before Mom turned to go. “Oh, Mom?”

Mom turned back and Rosie waved. “Yes, dear?”

“The Senior Ball is coming up in a month.” Mom’s face lit up. I pressed on. “And the theme is to be an actual Old English style ball, like in Pride and Prejudice or something. I have no idea what to wear.”

Mom practically beamed at the invitation. Rosie reached up and pulled her hair from its bun, but Mom didn’t seem to mind. “I’ll help you, if you’d like.”

I nodded. “I’d really like that.”

***

Raven watched over Marek and Rosie while I drove Mom, Dad, and Kip to the Den. Even though his arm was in a sling, Raven had only to remind Mom that he normally watched fifteen to twenty Lost to convince her that he could handle my baby sister. We were going to leave Kip, but he begged me to let him come despite Dad’s realistic fears of the Downs. I owed my brother for his help with Marek, and I really wanted to show him what Marek and Raven did so that he could understand them better. He now sat in the back with Mom under a multitude of different casserole dishes.

“You’re sure the car’s going to be safe here?” Dad asked when I pulled our old Honda into the empty garage. We had abandoned the Falconan’s car under an overpass, and we only had one vehicle since the Neon was damaged beyond repair. Phoenix went to the scene of the accident when he found out what happened. He removed the plates and the VIN number, then torched the Neon so no one would link it with my family. I was sad about that; it felt like losing a reliable friend.

I understood Dad’s concern. “Don’t worry, Dad. This close to the Den, the inhabitants of the Downs fear the great black wolf that roams the streets. They don’t come near here anymore.”

“Cool,” Kip said from behind us.

They followed me into the dark, dusty warehouse, the presence of the giant machines as ominous as when I had first come to the Den. I led them to the trap door, then pressed my hand on the panel. Kip, a boy seldom surprised, stared in amazement when the panel dropped in and slid out of the way, revealing the ramp. Mom followed close behind Dad as I led them to the next door. When I opened it, Mom gasped.

From the platform, we could see Phoenix wrestling in a pile of blankets with two of the Lost. Another ran through the kitchen armed with a water gun, three children played hide and go seek under the tables in the main room, and Whisper played dolls in her room with the youngest girl, a seven year old who said her name was Sunshine; the last two, a pair Marek suspected had come from an orphanage, played video games on the big television.

“You say you guys already took some of the children home?” Mom asked, her eyebrows raised.

I nodded. “Five of them; there’s nine left.” I tried not to think of the fact that May, the fifteenth, would never go home.

“This place is awesome!” Kip said excitedly. He was already halfway down the flight of stairs.

“Should he just go in like that?” Mom asked.

Phoenix stood up and was looking at us; a kid hung from each arm in an attempt to pull him back down. I waved and he nodded in recognition. I walked down the stairs, Mom and Dad trailing behind. Soon, however, they were immersed in the workings of the Den.

Dad was in the motorcycle room with Phoenix. Glancing in, I saw a gleam of childish excitement in Dad’s eyes as he ran a hand over Marek’s favorite jet black bike. Phoenix tossed him a helmet. Dad stared at it. “Wanna go for a ride?”

Dad looked back and saw me watching. “Don’t tell Mom. We’ll be back in a minute.” I laughed and nodded. Phoenix gave me a thumbs-up, punched the button to open the side door that led up to a back alley, and wheeled his camo-painted bullet bike up the ramp with Dad following right behind.

I shook my head, fighting a smile. Kip was on the computer with Flint. Even though the young wolf Shifter didn’t talk, they hit it off through their like of electronics. Now, they both searched the files for information on the Lost children that were left.

Mom was in the kitchen with Whisper, Sunshine, and two more of the Lost making cookies. From the smile Mom threw me as she went past the door, I could tell she was in her element, cooking and surrounded by eager, hungry kids.

I made my way to the lift with the intent of going to the roof, but a doorway in a dark corner by the motorcycles caught my eye. Its door was missing and a brown blanket had been tacked up for privacy. I glanced around, saw that no one was watching, and ducked under the blanket. Surrounded in darkness, I fumbled along the wall until I found a light switch.

I was surprised at the size of the room the light revealed. Roughly half the size of the main room, it was dimly lit and had a feeling of safety in its simple layout. A punching bag and knuckle bag were in one corner, and a pair of red gloves and a towel were thrown carelessly onto a chair nearby. A bed with tousled blankets sat in the opposite corner. I walked over to it, drawn to a picture on the nightstand.

I picked it up and stared at a very young Marek, his black hair still unruly and hanging in front of his bright blue eyes. He had an arm around his little brother. I found myself staring at Shane, trying to see the tall, merciless Falconan in the little boy’s face. Shane had brown hair like his mom and a grin that revealed an adorable gap between his two front teeth. Marek’s mom and dad stood behind them with content smiles on their faces. I could see Marek’s strong jawline and height in his father’s reflection.

There was something on young Marek’s face that held my gaze, something I hadn’t seen before. In the picture he looked so carefree, so innocent, like he had the world at his fingertips and nothing could beat him down. I sat the frame back down carefully, trying to hold that picture of him in my head. Could he ever feel like that again after all he had gone through?

I left the room as quietly as I had entered it, glad that Marek had a place of solitude like I had in my tree. I only hoped it was enough to help him through the battle he was fighting now, enough to help him find himself again.

Chapter 38- Marek

I kept my eyes shut, trying to will myself back into the dreamless sleep that was an escape from thoughts I didn’t want to face. Then I saw May’s pale face in my mind’s eye, her little arm around the brown bear we had given her. A tear escaped from my closed eyes and slid slowly down my cheek. I moved my left hand to brush it away. The sudden pain in my shoulder stole my breath. I gasped and grabbed it with my right hand.

The touch of bandages under my fingers brought it all back. I was in Kip’s room. May had been killed and Raven shot by my brother, Shane, and I wasn’t Marek. The real family I still loved wasn’t my own, I had let down the pack by being unable to protect them against a threat that wouldn’t give up until they were all dead, and I had brought danger to Kyla’s family, the only people who truly treated me like just another person.

Kyla. Her scent touched my nose. I opened my eyes slowly while telling myself that I should just crawl out the window and die somewhere alone. That thought was similar enough to Galbran’s plan to make me push the bitterness and despair back down, determined to live.

The bedroom was dark. I was alone. A clock next to the bed showed 3:53 a.m. I turned my head to the left. A little worn brown teddy bear sat near my pillow. It was the source of Kyla’s scent.

I reached slowly across with my good arm, wincing at the compression of my wounded shoulder. The bear was old and obviously treasured. The thought that Kyla had left it there brought a small smile to my face. The smile left as quickly as it appeared. I shouldn’t be here. My presence had already brought her harm. How could her parents let me stay?

I had brought danger to this home, and my continued presence would mean bad news for them if the Falconans returned. Grimly, I vowed to leave as soon as I was healthy enough to get out of bed. I owed it to them to do what I could to keep them safe. My eyes grew heavy; I gave myself back to sleep’s hold and the threat of merciless dreams. The brown bear rested under my arm, a gentle reminder of the angel that had been stolen away from me by the one person I had never given up searching for.

Chapter 39- Kyla

I forced myself to go to school the next two weeks while Marek spent the time trying to regain his strength. I couldn’t explain why, but it was hard to see him. I found myself avoiding Kip’s room and making up excuses as to why I arrived home late each night.

When I wasn’t at school studying or at Dad’s clinic, I wandered to the parking lot to watch Kip and his friends play or I snuck through the backyard and climbed the tree where no one would see me. I wanted to visit the pack, but since we only had one car now, I had to rely on Raven’s and Phoenix’s frequent visits. Mom went over there often, too, to drop off more food. I was convinced that the Den now held enough provisions to feed an army.

My friends at school were obsessed with their costumes for the upcoming ball, but it felt so unimportant to me. I planned with them, but only to avoid their questions. When they weren’t talking about dresses, corsages, colors, and hair styles, most seniors were busy preparing entrance packets for college applications. I gathered mine together half-heartily. Being a veterinarian didn’t call to me like it did before. I still wanted to help animals, but it seemed like I could do so much more to help the Lost and the Shifters. I just didn’t know what.

“Preoccupied, Ms. March?”

I came back to the present with a jerk that knocked my history book to the ground. I glanced around quickly. Most of the class had already left. I hadn’t even heard the bell. Embarrassed, I ducked to pick up the book. “Just a lot on my mind,” I mumbled.

Mr. Flinn sat on the edge of a desk, his glasses lopsided on his nose. He gave me a worried frown as two more students hurried out the door, leaving us alone in the classroom. “How’s the Shifter doing?”

Surprised, my mouth fell open. “Mr. Flinn?”

He shook his head with an apologetic shrug. “You haven’t been the same since we first talked about the one you met. I assumed your lack of interest in my class had more to do with that than my excellent teaching.” He gave me a kind smile. “Am I right?”

I nodded. “They hurt him,” I said against my will.

Mr. Flinn straightened his glasses and the worried look on his face deepened. “Your father’s taking care of him?”

I nodded again, afraid of saying too much.

“Well,” Mr. Flinn continued with a nod of respect at my silence. “If anyone can help him, Mr. March can. Your father’s quite the man.”

Thinking of the way my parents had accepted the injured wolf Shifter into their home regardless of the possible danger it brought, I nodded again.

Mr. Flinn rose back to his feet. “If you ever need someone to talk to that isn’t involved, I’m here.”

“Thank you, Professor,” I replied, touched. I rose and slung my backpack over one shoulder. I was almost to the door when Mr. Flinn’s voice made me turn.

“From what I’ve learned through my own research, Shifters are truly part human and part animal.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, glancing behind me to make sure no one else was listening.

“A Shifter has the instinct of both the human and the animal. There’s so much we could learn from them about the ways of our fellow creatures,” he mused. “Most animals don’t do well in a cage, and that’s the one thing society would give them.” He frowned slightly, his voice lower. “Most humans don’t do well in a cage, either.” He was staring ahead, his gaze distant. He fell silent in his thoughts. I left him there, my own thoughts, if anything, more troubled.

***

I woke up late that night. I had gotten home in time to reheat a quick dinner, then fell into bed exhausted from helping Dad repaint the kennel room. I wondered what had woken me, then I heard a muffled sound from downstairs.

Suddenly alert, I grabbed my hockey stick from the side of my dresser and rose from the bed, my bare feet making no sound on the carpeted floor. I reached the bottom of the stairs and peeked through the doorway to the left, expecting to see Falconans in the living room.

To my surprise, Marek leaned on one of the armchairs favoring his hurt leg. His chest was heaving as though he had run a marathon. In the light of the moon streaming through the windows, he looked pale and worn. In the few glimpses I had seen of him over the past two weeks, he had been mostly asleep, trying to regain his strength. Now Fellow stood anxiously at Marek’s feet and looked at me with a worried wave of his tail.

“What are you doing?” I asked quietly, afraid that he would hurt himself.

Startled, Marek turned toward me, ready for an attack. A flash of pain crossed his face as he placed his full weight on the injured leg, and he stumbled. I ran forward and caught his arm before he could fall. I helped him to the couch, trying not to look as worried as I felt about the sheen of sweat that made his clothes stick to his body.

Marek sat on the couch in silence, his expression unreadable. I could feel his eyes on me. I looked away, ashamed of how I had avoided him. “I’m sorry,” I said finally, taking a seat on the armchair he had been leaning against.

Marek smiled, surprising me. “It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t be out here. This is your house and you have a right to be anywhere you want to.”

I shook my head. “No, not that. Well, I am sorry for startling you,” I replied quickly at his raised eyebrows. I caught the beginnings of another smile and felt a blush steal across my cheeks. “I mean, I’m sorry for not visiting you more. It must be lonely in Kip’s room.”

Marek shrugged, then winced, rubbing his shoulder with his good hand. “This is a nice place. You and your parents have been great. I won’t be a bother much longer.”

“You’re not a bother, it’s. . . .” I processed what he had said and my heart fell. “You mean, you’re leaving?”

Marek nodded, his eyes on the little black dog at his feet. “My being here puts your family in constant danger. I couldn’t live with myself if the Falconans returned and hurt you, Kip, your parents, or Rosie.” His voice grew soft, his eyes distant. He was quiet for a moment, then whispered, “No more little ones will suffer on my account.” He looked at me, his eyes suddenly intense. “You’ve got to keep Rosie safe, and Kip. You can’t do that with me here.”

I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. I wanted to tell him that May’s death wasn’t his fault, that he should stay, that the pack could take care of the Lost without him; but I remembered little Whisper, Flint’s silence, and Raven wandering around the Den aimlessly, his arm still in a sling. The kidnapped children weren’t the only Lost there. Marek was more to them than just another pack mate. They needed him because he had always been there for them and had never let them down.

Even though my heart ached, I nodded. I couldn’t keep him away if he felt the only way to keep the pack safe was to be there. “I understand,” I said quietly.

“Thank you,” Marek replied.

I stared at him, confused.

The wolf Shifter’s eyes reflected gold in the moonlight for a second. He seemed to look right through me. He dropped his gaze after a moment. “I felt like I needed your approval. You’ve done so much for me and the pack. It wouldn’t be right for me to leave if you didn’t understand why I have to.”

Something bothered me. I didn’t know if I should bring it up, but I realized with a sting of loss that there might not be a later. “What will you do now that the labs have moved? How will you find the Lost so Galbran doesn’t get them?”

“I don’t know,” Marek replied. He pushed himself slowly off the couch. Leaning on a bat he had brought from Kip’s room, he made his way toward me. “The pack will have to decide together. There’s got to be a way to find them.” He shook his head, his hair falling in front of his eyes. The frustration and anger I had seen in his gaze whenever he was awake and thought that no one was looking appeared.

He gritted his teeth. “They have to be found. Galbran and Shane have to be stopped.” He stood there quiet and brooding, his thoughts obviously on May and that horrible night. I could see it in his eyes, the pain, loss, and fear. It was eating him up inside. He swayed where he stood and seemed to come back to reality. He glanced at me. “I should get back to bed.”

I followed him to the stairs and helped him slowly up them. Marek fell into Kip’s bed with an exhausted sigh. Kip, sprawled out on a sleeping bag on the floor nearby, didn’t budge.

I turned to go, then stopped myself. Who knew if he would be there when I got back from school tomorrow? Maybe I would never see him again. I turned back. “It wasn’t your fault.” I remembered May’s laugh, so carefree and sweet like Rosie’s, and bit my lip, fighting against tears that burned my eyes.

Marek didn’t answer. He looked out the window beside me at the crescent moon that topped the trees. I started to wonder if he had heard me. Maybe he was more tired than I thought. I turned to go, but his voice stopped me. “I still have those dreams.” I turned back to him, my mind racing over our conversation, wondering what dreams we had talked about. Marek’s soft answer drew me nearer and I knelt by the edge of the bed to hear him. “I still have the dreams of the wolf Galbran talked about.”

The tape recorder was still buried in the back corner of my closet. I never wanted to listen to that voice again. Hearing Marek mention it made me feel cold. I shivered and pulled my robe tighter.

“I see myself running through the forest; I know every tree and rock, every blade of grass and eagle cry. The woods breathe life, comfort, and home. I hear howls and know who gives them. When I howl, I hear myself telling the world who I am, who I care about, and where my home is. The pack is safe, and there is peace.” He turned his head to face me, his voice quiet and tired. “That same feeling of peace is here in your home. Protect it, Kyla. You have something priceless and irreplaceable.” He closed his eyes. “Take care of it.”

I rose and walked quietly to the door. I shut it softly behind me, then leaned against it. “I will,” I whispered before crossing the hallway to my room.

Chapter 40- Marek

When I woke the next day, I was surprised to find Mrs. March sitting on the side of my bed. She smiled at me and smoothed my hair back from my forehead with a touch that reminded me so much of my own mother I had to force myself not to turn away.

“You’ve been through more than I hope my children ever know,” she said with a sad smile.

“I’m afraid I’ve brought it to your door,” I replied. I pushed to a sitting position and she put some pillows behind me to help me sit up.

“The world is there,” Mrs. March replied. “All we have to do is leave our home to find it.”

I watched her, uncertain what to say. Mrs. March rose and picked up Kip’s discarded sleeping bag. She folded it with a thoughtful expression on her face. “Matt was able to go with Phoenix to take two of the children home yesterday.”

I nodded with a smile, recalling Kip’s enthusiastic recount of Mr. March’s and Phoenix’s successful delivery. Kip had stayed at the Den, but he told it as if he had been there. I was relieved it had been quiet and uneventful as far as Falconans were concerned, even though I knew Phoenix was probably disappointed. “They did a good job. Ricky and Mina’s families are probably having a huge celebration.”

Mrs. March nodded, but I could tell her thoughts were elsewhere. “What is it?” I asked her gently after a moment of silence had passed. “What’s wrong?”

Mrs. March smoothed the sleeping bag in her arms. “It’s just. . . I’ve seen how you guys live, Marek.” She thought about what she said, then looked horrified at what it seemed she was implying. She rushed forward in a way that reminded me of Kyla, worried that she had offended me. “I mean, the Den is great, it’s amazing even. You have so much there and accomplish so much. It’s just. . . .”

I gave her a nod of encouragement. “Go on. It’s okay.”

“I. . .” Mrs. March sighed, then pushed on, “I’m just not sure it’s the proper place to raise a little girl.”

“You mean Whisper.”

She nodded. “Marek, she looks up to you so much, and you take such good care of her. I know she’s happy there.”

“But she’s missing out on some other important things,” I finished. Mrs. March nodded, but didn’t speak. I took a breath, testing the way my lungs pushed against my tender shoulder. I let it out slowly. “I know she needs a mother, a real family.” I met her eyes.

Mrs. March nodded. “Marek, can she stay here? You know we can care for her. She’ll be one of our own.”

I felt an ache that had nothing to do with the bullet wounds. I studied my hands. “Whisper is such a special little girl. She’s like my little sister. I’ve always treated her as such.”

Kyla’s mom nodded.

“I know you would give her the best possible family.” I shook my head, not wanting to draw her on. “But she’s a Shifter, one of the few left.”

“That doesn’t matter to us,” Mrs. March replied in full honesty.

“I know it doesn’t,” I said. “And that means more than you could ever imagine.” I thought about how best to say what I needed to without alarming her. After a moment of silence, I gave up and told her the truth, knowing she deserved to hear it after all she had done for us. “The Falconans won’t give up until Whisper and Raven are captured and the rest of the Shifters are killed.” At her wide eyes, I rushed on, “The creators of the Falconans are still struggling. They have yet to develop a flawless model, which is why they are still kidnapping instead of cloning.

“The Falconans can’t fly. So far, only the bird Shifters are able to do so, which is the only thing keeping the Falconans from being the perfect soldiers. Whisper and Raven both have bones that are hollow; it makes them light enough to fly when they shift.”

“So this Galbran will do experiments on them if he finds them.”

It was a statement, not a question, but I nodded anyway. “He won’t care if what he does kills them as long as he gets the information he needs.” My tone became grim. “The only way he’ll get them is if I’m dead. I’ve dedicated my life to the Shifters and the Lost.” I met her eyes, the same green color as Kyla’s, but without the flecks of blue. “I’ll keep her safe. I promise.” I ignored the knife-edged voice in my mind that reminded me of the little girl I hadn’t been able to protect.

Mrs. March must have seen something on my face, because she nodded. She set the folded sleeping bag on the dresser, then turned back to me. “Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“If you need help, or someone to watch the children for any reason, you won’t hesitate to ask.”

I nodded, smiling at how her hopeful expression turned to one of relief. “I won’t hesitate, I promise. And I might have to bring Whisper to visit now and then, if you don’t mind too much.”

Mrs. March laughed. “I would like that very much.”

***

I made my way slowly around my room. It was good to be back at the Den. Whisper hadn’t let me out of her sight, and had drawn pictures on the walking stick Mr. March had given me until her eyes were so heavy she looked like she would fall to sleep where stood. Phoenix carried her off to bed, Flint and Shadow rubbing their eyes as they trailed after him. Raven, more solemn than I ever remembered him being, said goodnight and made his way to his own room. The bird Shifter’s arm was still in a sling. Mr. March had done the best he could. Only time would tell if Raven would ever fly again.

I limped around the perimeter of my room. My leg ached, but I couldn’t sit still. I felt like I was burning inside, like I had so much to do, but nothing to do at the same time. There were three more Lost left to return home. Phoenix had done a good job while I was gone. It was after all the Lost were home that I dreaded.

I made my way to the punching bag and stared at it. What if we couldn’t find where Galbran had moved the labs? What if we couldn’t stop the kidnapping? I thought of May and found myself wondering whether being a Falconan would have been a better fate than death. Catching myself, I growled and punched the bag as hard as I could.

Pain throbbed from the healing wounds, but I ignored it. I hit the bag again and again. Rage built inside of me, hopeless fury at all that had happened. I punched the bag until my wounds started to bleed, but I didn’t care. The pain drove the desperation from my mind. I forced the anger, sorrow, and frantic frustration I felt into each punch. The bag jumped on its chain; the cloth surface turned dark with blood from my knuckles, but I didn’t care. I hit the bag until I couldn’t raise my arms anymore and the whirlwind of thoughts was a numb, meaningless void in my mind.

I stumbled back to my bed and sat down, leaning the walking stick near the headboard. A scent touched my nose. I looked at the nightstand in surprise. Slowly, I picked up the only picture I owned. I could smell Kyla’s scent on the frame. She had been here, in my room. My heart gave a strange thump at the thought.

I hadn’t told her goodbye. She and Kip had both been at school when I asked Mr. March to drive me home. “My children look up to you,” Mr. March had said on the drive to the Den. I appreciated the easy way he spoke to me, like we were equals. I valued his good opinion.

“You have excellent children,” I replied truthfully.

Mr. March nodded in agreement. “I wish I could take full credit for that, but they’re the ones that are making the right choices.” He glanced at me. “You are, too. I’m amazed at the way you’ve taken care of these kids and made them a home. You have great leadership abilities.”

“Leaders aren’t born, they’re created by circumstance,” I said, looking out the side window.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. March nod thoughtfully. “I like that.”

I turned back to him, my throat suddenly tight. “Will you make sure Kyla’s okay? She’s been through a lot, and I haven’t been much help lately.”

Seeming unsurprised by the change of subject, Mr. March nodded. “She’s a strong girl, but she’s still young. She really cares about you, you know.”

I brushed my hair out of my eyes by habit, my mind racing through the past few weeks. I owed Kyla everything, including my life. But I couldn’t stay. Too much depended on me. “I didn’t want to hurt her.”

Mr. March nodded. “She’ll be okay. Just make sure you take care of yourself and the others.”

Now, I stared hard at the picture. My mother, father, and brother smiled happily at the camera.

***

I woke up early. Even though I was tired, I couldn’t sleep past the memories that chased themselves around in my head. I paced the dark room slowly, not bothering to turn on the lights. I leaned on the walking stick more than I wanted to. I had pushed myself too hard the last couple of days.

They had to be out there. That thought kept running through my head like a maddening chant. Raven and I had searched every site we knew on the Internet, following every lead to a frustrating dead end. Phoenix prowled the streets at night on his motorcycle. He hoped to run into them by chance, but we all knew how slim that possibility was. I doubted the labs were still located in Charlton.

I shifted into wolf form. Scar tissue pulled and ached at the sudden change. I ignored it. Being in this form took some of the weight off my leg. It felt good to be a wolf again, like coming home after being away for a long time, or putting on a pair of well broken-in shoes molded by time to fit only the wearer’s feet. I shook myself, than began to pace the room in a mile-eating stride.

I didn’t leave the room in wolf form anymore. It was too difficult to meet Raven’s eyes, knowing that my best friend could no longer fly and so no longer shifted. He had tried only once, up on the roof. I was woken one night by a scream. Waiting for the lift to come down was one of the longest moments of my life; I rode it back up again with my heart pounding.

I found Raven curled in a corner clutching his arm. Tears streaked down his cheeks. I had only to see the look of pain and loss in his eyes to know that he would never fly again. I helped Raven back down the lift and to his room. The sadness in my friend’s dark eyes haunted me. The air had been taken from him by a single bullet. I missed Raven’s grin and reckless attitude.

The fact that the Falconans had found another way to bring pain to those around me drove the dagger in deeper. I paced the room, pushing my endurance, my mind racing for ways to find the new labs, ways to stop Galbran and Shane from hurting more children. But I couldn’t face the night anymore.

I had traveled through the sewer tunnels half a dozen times with the intention of roaming the city like Phoenix, trying to find them, but every time the thought of empty streets lit by dull lamp lights, the shadow of a wing along a building, and the memory of a silenced bullet impacting its target sent me cowering below the grate sweating and shaking.

My ears multiplied every sound a hundred times while my nose smelled Falconans with each breath. I couldn’t bring myself to touch a gun without the reminder of the lives that had been changed by the heartless weapon. I couldn’t ride my motorcycle without checking over my shoulder a thousand times for dark wings trailing behind me.

Shane won even when he didn’t appear, because the strain beat me down until every shadow held a Falconan and every weapon was waiting to take the lives of those I held dear. I couldn’t find the labs with the fear the filled my chest, the same fear that I had seen echoed in Raven’s eyes when he found he could no longer fly. Shane had broken us both.

I slowed.

Kyla’s scent still lingered in my room as if loath to fade away. The thought of Shane and Galbran mixed with her scent, forced me to think of the tape I had tried so hard to forget. It was still in Kyla’s closet. Maybe there was a clue there, something I had overlooked. At least it was a lead, if a vague one. I looked back at the picture of my family where Kyla’s scent was the strongest. I would go there tonight. Any hope was better than no hope at all.

Chapter 41- Kyla

I fell exhausted into bed that night. I had spent all afternoon after school scrubbing the clinic until it shined. Dad teased that it was the cleanest clinic in the country, but I could see the worry in his eyes. He knew I was trying to escape from everything that had happened by throwing myself into working. I knew it myself, but couldn’t find a way to change anything.

I knew Marek would leave, but kept holding onto the faint hope that he would come back. His continued absence was always on my mind. I dove into my studies and work with a method close to madness, but only to prevent myself from thinking about him.

I pulled the covers up to my chin and willed sleep to take me quickly away. I never could fight the memories that came at the edge of dreams. I heard the gunshots again, felt the despair and fear. Tears left tracks down my cheeks, soaking my pillow. The tears were familiar, as was the ache in my heart when I thought of all that had happened, and everyone who had been hurt.

Then, in the quiet of the night, I was taken back to a different memory. I heard Marek’s voice and felt his arms around me like when he had rescued me from the men in the alley. For some reason, even though it was probably the least dangerous of the memories, it was the one that always surfaced just before I fell asleep.

“It’s okay to cry,” he whispered in my memories. I could still remember the feeling of the bandages on his hand as he smoothed my hair. I remembered the sound of his heartbeat. “You’re okay. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he had said, his voice gentle and calm. The words echoed in my head, soothing me to sleep. You’re okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.

Chapter 42- Marek

I left the motorcycle in the garage of an abandoned gas station not too far away and walked slowly through the familiar streets. The stars were hidden behind a blanket of thick clouds, casting more shadows than usual on the sparsely-lit streets. No one was supposed to be out after curfew anyway, so no one replaced the broken bulbs in the lamps. The few gangs who roamed the streets at night were grateful for the cover of darkness. I tried to tell myself that there was no reason for Falconans to roam this quiet part of the city, but I felt eyes on my back nonetheless.

I climbed the lattice under Kyla’s window, gritting my teeth as the movements strained bruised muscles. I opened the window and stepped noiselessly to the floor. Scents that I associated with peace washed over me. I stood there with my eyes closed for a moment, remembering the care I had received under the Marchs’ hands. There had been no fear here, no danger, until I imposed in Kyla’s life.

Opening my eyes, I looked over to where she slept. The covers were rumpled around her legs as though she had recently kicked them off. She wore a soft blue nightgown and the bear that had sat beside me during my recovery now rested behind the pillow near her head. Her disheveled dark blonde hair framed her face. I found myself wishing that she would open her disarming green eyes and find me there. I wondered what she would say, what she would do.

I forced myself to turn away. I didn’t deserve her. With soundless steps, I made my way to the closet. A short search revealed the tape recorder in the corner. My teeth bared in distaste, I took it out. It still smelled of the sterile labs, of my blood, and of Galbran. I shoved it in my jacket pocket, feeling tainted by having it with me.

I closed the closet door without a sound and made my way back to the window. I pushed it open, but something kept me from leaving. Something deep inside yearned for me to stay here where I was safe and cared for, where I had found a temporary family and love. I turned back slowly. Kyla slept quietly, her expression one of tranquility and comfort.

I wanted to lie down beside her and not make a sound, to just watch her sleep, to see that she was safe and that I had not brought her the danger that destroyed those I cared about. I wanted her to feel secure and loved, to let her know how much I cared about her.

A slight gleam in the darkness caught my eye. I took a step forward and saw that she still wore the necklace I had given her. The small blue crystal in the middle of the four interlocking circles held the light with a tiny twinkle from where it rested at the hollow of her throat.

My heartbeat slowed and my muscles tingled. Mrs. March was right. Kyla did care about me. Funny how something like a necklace could confirm that when I wouldn’t allow Kyla’s own words to convince me. Was I afraid to believe it so much? Afraid even though believing made my heart race and stutter at the same time?

I lost track of time as I watched her sleep. I had affected her, as she had touched and changed me. I didn’t know where I stood. I didn’t know what to do. The sun was starting to climb above the horizon when I finally turned and stepped out onto the lattice. I closed the window tight, then made my way down to the ground. Nothing had changed, but I felt stronger. I would find them, somehow. I would stop Galbran and Shane. I would find a way to save the Lost.

Chapter 43- Kyla

School dragged by with each day I didn’t hear from Marek. I laughed with my friends and concentrated in my classes with a new zeal brought on by Marek’s value of school. I no longer took the information my teachers taught for granted, and I studied my options for college with a new dedication toward picking the right major that would enable me to make a difference the way he did.

I could tell my parents were pleased and worried at the same time. The glances they threw each other when I had my head buried in a book didn’t go unnoticed, but they didn’t bring it up because there was nothing substantial to mention. I spent more time at Dad’s clinic helping out with the animals, and found myself lingering by Tank’s cage in the evenings.

The big white junkyard dog growled at anyone who came near. Dad had put him in the back room where he wouldn’t be bothered by other dogs and the staff. The big Pit bull/Rottweiler mix slept most of the day, but when anyone entered the room he growled and paced his cage like a lion behind bars. For some reason, seeing him in the cage brought back the memory of finding Marek locked away and left to die. I couldn’t leave Tank alone, and perhaps a part of me hoped that if I could befriend the dog, maybe I could save a piece of Marek.

On weekends I began to eat my lunches sitting on the floor next to his cage. Dad found me in there once and gave me a look I couldn’t read, but he didn’t say anything and left me to eat. The next day he joined me and we both pointedly ignored the pacing giant, hoping he would calm down and stop growling enough for us to talk. He didn’t, but that didn’t make us stop trying.

Dad seemed to enjoy the challenge as much as I did. He asked Mom to put more meat in our sandwiches, and we dropped slices of turkey and roast beef through Tank’s cage bars. At first, the big white dog snapped at us, then sat as far away from the offerings as he could; but eventually, his stomach won and he began to eat the meat as soon as we looked away.

“I think he’s really a big old softie who hasn’t been given a chance,” I said the next weekend when Dad and I shared our usual meal on the cold cement floor. Dad had brought a blanket this time and as we sat on it I pretended that we were having a fancy picnic, complete with plastic forks and ham sandwiches with little boxes of Dad’s favorite white grape juice.

Dad glanced at Tank and the big dog lifted his lips to show long teeth cleaned white by the nylon rope that lay shredded on his also shredded bed. “I think we might be stretching that theory,” Dad commented.

I gave him a challenging look and on a split-second impulse, I put my hand through the bars and willed my palm to hold the slice of ham on top steady.

“Kyla, what are you doing?” Dad asked.

“Shhh,” I cautioned, looking away from my hand. “I’m testing my theory.”

“This is ridiculous,” Dad said, but he looked away, too. His hand squeezed the juice box until he realized what he was doing and set it down before he sprayed us both with grape juice.

I closed my eyes at the sound of Tank’s claws on the plastic cage floor. His breath felt hot against my palm as he took a long, deep sniff, then let it out in a huff. I worried for a minute that he would take my whole hand with the ham, but no growl sounded. I willed the small shard of fear I felt away, then a tongue tickled my palm. He gulped down the ham, then retreated to the back of his kennel.

I pulled out my hand and showed Dad the slobbery mess Tank had left there. “See!” I said triumphantly.

He gave me a searching look as I wiped my fingers on a napkin.

“How did you know he wouldn’t bite you?”

I avoided his eyes. “I didn’t,” I admitted.

He fell silent for a moment, then I looked over to see him offering Tank another slice. The big dog hesitated, then grabbed the meat out of Dad’s hand with a quick, slobbery snap. Dad pulled his fingers out, his nose crinkled in disgust at the drool, but a gleam of excitement touched his eyes. “You might be right about that brute,” he said. He rose and brushed the crumbs off his pants, then tossed a milk bone into the kennel.

Tank snuffed it up from the ground and downed it without chewing. “On the other hand,” Dad said. “Maybe he just eats anything.”

I laughed. “He did come from a junkyard. Maybe the pickings were slim.”

I slid the rest of my sandwich through the bars and grinned when Tank shuffled over and ate it without growling at my nearness. I touched his shoulder through the bars. He paused in wolfing down the food, glanced at me with his brown eyes, then continued eating. I ran my fingers up and down his fur and knew I didn’t imagine him pressing closer so I could get a better reach.

Chapter 44- Marek

Each turn was a dead end, even the tape I listened to over and over again though the words destroyed a part of me each time I heard Galbran’s voice. The drive I felt dissipated as the last of the Lost children were returned safely home. Flint, Shadow, and Phoenix worked on the pieces of a discarded motorcycle I had found in a junkyard to keep them occupied. Raven still searched the computers, though we all knew we had checked every possibility. It was as though Galbran had vanished off the face of the earth.

I poured Whisper a bowl of cereal, her third that morning. I put the milk away, then shut the refrigerator door harder than I intended to.

“Whatcha do that for?” Shadow asked from where he cleaned a spark plug near the sink.

Annoyed at myself, I walked out the kitchen door without answering. I thrust aside the blanket and ducked into my room where I had been spending more and more of my time as our efforts proved futile. I picked up my gloves and laced them on.

A brush of cloth, then footsteps coming up behind me announced that Raven had come into my room unbidden, something he never did. The bird Shifter was always the first to respect someone else’s space. I hit the bag with a frustration I couldn’t explain.

“What’s going on with you?” Raven asked quietly.

I hit the bag again, unable to give an answer I didn’t know myself. I jabbed, ducked, then spun and kicked the bag with enough force to make it jump a foot.

“They look to you for guidance, you know,” Raven continued. “This mood you’re in is bringing everyone down.”

Anger filled me. I hit the bag once more, then turned and threw my gloves down at Raven’s feet. “You think I like feeling like this?” I replied hotly, my chest heaving. “I feel like I’m going to explode if we don’t find anything. I’ve got to do something to stop them. They can’t be allowed to hurt anyone else!”

Instead of backing down like he usually would, Raven’s dark eyes flashed. He picked up one of the gloves and gripped it tightly in both hands until his knuckles turned white. “You think you’re the only one who suffers?” He shouted back with a ferocity that surprised me. “You think you’re the only one that feels the pain of losing May? Of the Lost we haven’t been able to save?”

He threw the glove down and clenched his fists. “I gave up my wings for her. I gave up everything to try and get her home.” He glared at me as though he was fighting not to punch me. “Yet, you sit in here sulking like a spanked puppy. Well, fearless leader, why don’t you actually lead? Why don’t you tell us what to do next so we’re not sitting here doing nothing while pretending to do something just so we can tell ourselves there’s a point to our existence?”

Raven pointed at the door to where we both knew everyone listened. “Those kids need a life, and by bringing them here, we promised to give it to them. Shifters or not, we all need something to live for. Or will you just drop us like you did Kyla?”

I stared at Raven in disbelief. The bird Shifter looked immediately sorry for the bluntness of his words, but I didn’t care. I pushed past Raven out the door, walked down the hall without a glance at the rest of the pack who stared after me, and ran up the steps to the warehouse door. I shifted the second the trapdoor slid closed behind me.

Raven’s words burned in my ears as I loped down a random street. I didn’t know where I was going, and didn’t care. Raven’s words confirmed the fact that I had truly failed everyone, had led them all nowhere. Why did I have to be the leader in the first place? Because there was no one else, I reminded myself grimly. I forced the thought aside and gave myself up to the run. The pounding of my paws against the pavement settled into a steady, mind-numbing rhythm. My leg and shoulder burned, but I didn’t feel it. I felt nothing.

At the end of the run, I found myself on a tall, windswept barren hill overlooking the city. The sun had set, and crickets began their peaceful song of praise to the moon. A coyote called behind me, but only silence answered its cry. The night breeze brought with it the dry, empty corners of alleys and the faint whisper of trees that stood bravely in the midst of the cement jungle.

I thought of the forest in Kyla’s backyard. My heart ached to think of her. Raven was right. I had abandoned her. But I had done it to protect her, not to hurt her. Funny how those seemed to follow hand in hand when I was involved.

I hated myself. I hated my failure with the pack, with Kyla, with Shane, with May. I hated my fear of the Falconans and the never silent darkness. I hated that I couldn’t find Galbran’s labs or the Lost he stole. The life I had given my pack was worthless now.

But they were alive, a voice inside reminded me. I growled under my breath against the rational thought, but it was true. We were all alive, still; we had managed to survive this far. Since we had escaped the labs, my main driving force was to stop others from a similar fate. Now that had been taken from me, and I felt lost and without a purpose.

But Raven was right. The pack looked up to me and I owed it to them to see that their sacrifices had been worth it, that May hadn’t died in vain. I wouldn’t give up my search for Galbran, but I was responsible for so much more. I rose and shook myself. I had run far, and it would take a while to get back. I didn’t want them to think I had abandoned them. If they needed a leader, well, I would lead.

***

I bought books and computer programs to supplement the schooling Shadow and Flint missed, and gave them a schedule to follow so they got the most out of their study time. I bought coloring books, paints, and art sets for Whisper, and Raven and I made use of our poor artistic skills decorating her room and watching her best us with her drawings. I took the children out and we used some of the money I had set aside to buy nice clothes so we could go to movies and eat out.

They thrived in being social and experiencing the little things in life my worry of the Falconans had kept us from doing. We went to a different park every day, we fed ducks, we went to the library and each filled out a card with a fake address I had them memorize. We pretended Raven and I were the older brothers, and if anyone challenged us, Phoenix wasn’t far behind to act as the doting parent, a task he seemed to enjoy, but which also made him withdraw further into himself afterward.

About the time Kyla got out of school, I found myself either on the abandoned grocery store roof or in the shadows behind the second parking lot, watching to make sure she reached her car safely. I was glad to see there was no sign of the AWOL soldiers who gave her trouble. I was pleasantly surprised to find that Tarnick and his gang had moved their territory to include the school, and they kept the junkies from hawking their wares to the students. The parking lot at the grocery story was eventually taken over by students and the halos of smoke and red-eyed users eventually left.

I shadowed Kyla to the clinic, and let Whisper and the wolf Shifters play at the playground a block away so I could hear her car and know that she was headed safely home. I lost myself in the children, in teaching them the things they missed by not going to school, and adding the lessons of the street to their education. Shadow and Flint took easily to Phoenix’s weapons’ training, and though I never touched a gun after losing May, I still felt relieved at the thought that they could defend themselves if the Den was ever attacked.

I struggled at night, and with a reluctance to go out into the darkness alone. I told myself I wasn’t a coward, but I had to fight surges of adrenaline that sent me rushing for cover at the sound of a footstep or the glint of light on metal.

I despised my fear, but didn’t know how to get over it. I didn’t dare let down my vigil, but at the same time I couldn’t look at a Falconan across a street or in a busy mall without a shard of fear racing down my spine. I tried to hide it from the others, and if they suspected, they didn’t say anything.

Chapter 45- Kyla

I attended school and watched Kip play hockey, pitching in once in a while to even out the teams. Phoenix, Whisper, and Raven came by to visit, but Marek’s absence was painfully obvious. I caught the exchanged worried looks between Mom and Dad when they asked the pack members about him. Their answers were always short and vague. Mom cooked extra meals to send home to the others.

I helped out at the clinic, went dress shopping with my friends, and picked out a soft purple gown on a sales rack. I doubted I would ever wear it, but Mom insisted that I get something. I studied in the tree, played with Rosie, and babysat so that my parents could go out.

Everything had returned to normal until the day Kip didn’t come home from school.

“Did he say he was going to Bobby’s house tonight?” Mom asked anxiously.

Dad shook his head, his newspaper lying untouched on the table.

“Kippy,” Rosie said from under the table. She giggled, proud of the new word she had learned that week with Kip’s attentive coaching. “Fewow,” she said, tossing a block at the little dog. He moved grudgingly from his place at Dad’s feet where he waited for scraps from the untouched meal.

“He probably lost track of time playing hockey,” I commented without hope. I’d left the parking lot over two hours ago and they had already been wrapping up the game in order to beat the cold home.

Dad rose. “I’m calling the police. If he comes home soon, great. At least they can keep an eye out for him.” He took the phone into the living room. I heard him dial, then talk to the dispatcher. Mom stared at the back door. I knew they were thinking the same thing. Was Kip lost or Lost?

I couldn’t take it anymore. I rose from the table, my chair sliding back with an overloud screech. Mom looked up, alarmed. “Where are you going?”

“To Marek,” I said. “He’ll know what to do.” I could feel the necklace I had worn under my shirt since the day Marek gave it to me. He had to know what to do.

Dad came back into the room looking haggard. “They said to wait twenty-four hours in case he returns; then if we still haven’t heard from him, they’ll start looking.”

That made up my mind. “I’m going.”

“Where?” Dad asked in surprise.

“She’s going to tell Marek to see if he can do anything,” Mom replied. She looked suddenly years older as she picked up Rosie and hugged her. The toddler struggled, anxious to go back to throwing blocks at Fellow.

Dad surprised me. “Don’t worry. I’ll take her if you’ll be alright here.”

Mom nodded. “I know where you keep the shotgun. No one will bother us.

“Mom!” I said, shocked.

Mom gave me a grim smile. “Nobody messes with my family.”

Dad followed me into the dark warehouse. I could see my breath by the faint light of the moon that drifted in through the broken windows. The machine giants seemed watchful tonight, as if they were waiting for something. A shiver ran through my body that wasn’t brought on by the cold.

Phoenix took one look at our expressions and pointed at the door to Marek’s room. Dad stayed behind with the cougar Shifter while I made my way down the hall. The kids were asleep; snoring rose from Shadow’s room.

I was surprised to hear thumps coming from behind the makeshift door at the late hour. I pulled the blanket aside and stepped in. Marek was punching the bag. He wore loose white pants and his bare chest shone with a layer of sweat. He had tied a dark blue bandanna around his head to keep the hair out of his eyes. I could see the white scar from the bullet wound in his shoulder. He didn’t favor his left arm; he worked it harder.

“Marek.”

He spun in a half-crouch, his gloves up and ready for an attack. Spotting me, he dropped them again and stood in surprise. “Sorry, I, well . . . .” Embarrassed, he pulled the gloves off and tossed them onto the nearby chair, then picked up a towel. “I haven’t been able to find the labs. I’ve searched every lead.” I could hear the frustration in his voice, and how he hated himself for it. “I don’t know where else to look. I’ve been trying to concentrate on the pack, to improve the quality of the life we live here. I shouldn’t have avoided you. I just know they’re out there and-”

“They’ve got Kip,” I said. As soon as it left my mouth, I knew it was true.

“-I can’t let it go.” Marek finished. He froze, then cocked his head at me wolf-like, his eyes flashing gold. “What did you say?”

“Kip didn’t come home. Dad’s called the cops, but they won’t do anything until tomorrow at the soonest.” The reality of what I was saying hit me. Tears filled my eyes.

Marek dropped his towel and touched my shoulder. “Kyla, I’m so sorry.”

I shook off his hand, finding a vent for my emotions in anger. That he had abandoned us had never crossed my mind before, but I felt it now. “Will you find him? He looked up to you,” I asked with a cold fury that hid how badly his absence had hurt.

“I don’t know where. . .” Marek met my eyes and the anger there stopped him. He gave a short nod. “I’ll find him, don’t worry.”

I turned and left the room without another word, my heart pounding. Dad and Phoenix, along with Flint, Raven, and Shadow, waited for me. I walked past them to the pile of charts on the table, unable to look at them through the hot tears that spilled down my cheeks.

I turned when I heard Marek’s footsteps coming down the hall. “Find me the closest Falconan.”

No one asked his plan. We took the motorcycles, leaving Dad’s car in the parking garage. At Marek’s command, Shadow and Raven stayed behind with Whisper. Marek seemed to be preparing for what would happen if he didn’t return. I rode behind Dad, my eyes on the black-clothed rider we followed. He was intent now, focused. He didn’t speak to anyone, but we followed him into the mall without question.

It was Friday night and the mall was full of shoppers, store owners, and guards. It didn’t take long for our solemn gang to attract the attention of one of the patrolling Falconans, then it took only a flash of Marek’s golden eyes to keep it.

The Falconan picked up his pace, following us down a side hall toward the men’s bathroom. At Marek’s signal, I grabbed Flint’s hand and ducked into a nearby store. The Falconan ignored us, intent on Marek. They entered the bathroom just ahead of him. Two seconds later, four other men left the restroom in a hurry.

Flint and I roamed the store pretending to shop, but our eyes were on the bathroom door. It took longer than I had expected, or else the tension turned the minutes into hours. Phoenix came out first. He was covered in sweat and his shirt was ripped, but he seemed to be in a very good mood. Dad and then Marek followed, looking grim but victorious. Dad glanced up, met my eyes, and gave a barely perceptible nod.

Flint and I joined them for the walk back to the bikes. I wondered if Flint was also staring at their red knuckles, the sternly clenched jaws, and exchanged glances. I couldn’t bring myself to ask if they had killed the Falconan; if Kip’s life hung in the balance, I really didn’t care.

“Leave it to Galbran to be cocky enough to stay in Charlton,” Phoenix said, his voice muffled through his helmet as he climbed on his motorcycle. “Lucky for us, some Falconans still have enough sense to value their lives above protecting him.” He paused, “Though I wouldn’t have minded questioning a few more just to be sure.”

“One’s enough,” Marek’s voice was quiet but firm. “Let’s go.” He put on his helmet, the tinted visor shading his face from view. He looked back at me for a second; everyone turned to follow his gaze.

I felt my cheeks turn red and was glad the helmet hid my face from view. “I’m ready,” I said. “Let’s bring Kip home.”

Chapter 46- Marek

We stopped by the Den to pick up supplies.

“Call Officer Brayton and the others. Have them meet us as soon as they can get there,” I told Raven. His eyes widened, but he nodded and grabbed the binder off one of the tables.

“Get Tarnick, Jeston, and the other older Shifters and have them meet us there as well,” I told Shadow. “Tell them to come armed.”

The young Shifter went to work next to Raven. I left them knowing they would rally whoever was in range; I could only hope they would arrive in time.

Mr. March, Flint, Phoenix, and Kyla followed me to the parking lot of an old school in downtown Charlton. The irony of Galbran’s lab being built in a place where children used to learn and play wasn’t lost on any of us. A steel tension ran through my muscles and determination settled in a cold fury where the fear had been. The guns in the harness across my chest and back strengthened my resolve to a whip-tight fire.

“Maybe you should stay with the bikes,” I heard Mr. March say behind me, his voice toned for only Kyla to hear.

I glanced at her and she shook her head. “We’ve been through this together. I want Kip back as badly as you do, and if I can help, I will.”

Her dad hesitated, saw that he had no choice in the matter, and nodded. “Just be careful.”

Kyla checked her Beretta.

“You know what you’re doing?” The concern in Mr. March’s voice contradicted his light tone.

Kyla nodded. “I’ve had practice.” She didn’t alarm him by expounding.

She glanced at me and I fought back a small smile. I checked her vest and my hands lingered on her arms for a second longer than necessary. She met my eyes, her own searching. “We have some things to talk about when we’re done here,” I said quietly.

Expectation along with another emotion I didn’t recognition flashed across her face and she nodded.

I turned back to the school, ready to let Galbran know what I thought of his new plan. “Let’s go quietly. Watch each other’s backs.”

We stayed outside the edge of Galbran’s cameras and circled to the back of the school where dark shadows hid us so we could get close enough to shoot out the two above a small janitor’s entrance. Phoenix forced the lock with his crowbar and we slipped inside.

I followed the scent of Falconans down the hallway; neon lights flickered above and I wondered what was draining their power. Flint led Kyla and Mr. March behind us, his pace slow and expression grim. I had debated whether it was smart to take the young wolf Shifter, but his knowledge of computers and electrical systems might give us an edge. I planned to deal with his father myself.

I could feel the others loosen up as danger remained only a threat. I kept them slow and quiet as I followed the sterile smell that made my stomach turn. Galbran wasn’t a fool. He knew we would look for him, especially after taking Kip. If he knew Kip was Kyla’s brother, I reminded myself. It was possible that Kip was kidnapped randomly, like the other Lost. I hoped that was the case, for we would have the element of surprise on our side.

Movement cut through the silence ahead. I held up a hand. The others stopped without a word. I crept forward soundlessly to the corner. I could smell them. Falconans. At least a dozen of them lined the doorways ahead of us. The quiet hum of computers and lab equipment came from the doors behind them. I needed to force an advantage and protect the others.

Turning silently, I made my way back. “We need to shut off the power,” I whispered. “And knowing Galbran, there’s a backup generator.”

“I’ll go,” Mr. March said.

“Good. Flint, go with him.” At Mr. March’s questioning look, I said, “You might need the help. They’re bound to be guarding the power supply. Also, Flint can see in the dark.” A wry smile touched Mr. March’s lips and he nodded. He and Flint fell back and disappeared around a corner we had passed.

Kyla, Phoenix, and I crept slowly forward. I kept Kyla at the rear and slid a knife into her free hand in case she was attacked where she couldn’t shoot. A minute later, the lights turned off. The questioning murmur of the Falconans came down the hall.

I paused at the corner, pulled a flash grenade from my vest, and tossed it down the hall. The Falconans turned at the sound. I pulled Kyla back and Phoenix followed. Kyla turned to look, but I put a hand over her eyes and shielded her with my body. A loud bang sounded and a flash of light still bright enough to show around the corner followed. Shouts and groans rose from the hall. “Stay here,” I said to Kyla. She crouched against the wall and nodded.

I ran back up the hall with Phoenix on my right. He paused at the sight of the first Falconan, but I drew a gun and shot him in the forehead as we passed. Phoenix swore quietly and drew his own gun. We took out as many Falconans as we could before the effects of the flash grenade wore off.

They recovered quicker than I expected, and a backup troop charged down the hallway drawn by the sound of battle. I took down two more with bullets, shoved another clip into my gun and brought it back up, but it was knocked away by a bat that hit my arm with a resounding crack. I grabbed my wrist, but didn’t have time to feel the pain. I elbowed a Falconan in the chin, then spun and chopped a second in the throat. I drew another gun and shot two more in the chest.

Phoenix took down three others to my right, then turned just as another Falconan threw a knife. It sunk deep into his thigh. He stumbled back and pulled it out, then used the knife to cut the Falconan’s throat. Two more attacked and I dove at them, taking them down with the force of my fury. We rolled on the unforgiving floor.

A Falconan landed on top of me and held me down. I tried to bring my gun around to his face, but he pulled out a knife and drove it through my right hand, pinning it to the floor. My gun slid away from my useless grip.

I clutched at the knife, trying to pull it free. The Falconan gave a wicked grin and slammed me in the chest with both fists. The air left me in a rush. I kicked out and he fell back; the motion pulled my hand from the floor. I tried to force my lungs to fill and climbed to my feet. I held my hand close to my body, careful not to jar the knife. The Falconan ran back at me, but I pushed off the wall behind me and hit him with a straight left jab hard enough to snap his head back. He stumbled, then fell to the floor.

Another Falconan rushed forward. I jumped off the body of the first one and elbowed him on the top of the head hard enough to send pain shooting up my arm. The Falconan collapsed to the ground with a groan.

“They’re leaving,” Phoenix said with a snort of disgust. He held his leg with one hand and glared down the hallway at the fleeing Falconans.

“They’ll regroup and be back with weapons,” I said. “Galbran will regret not giving them guns even if these are tight quarters.”

I backed down the hall toward Kyla and found her still crouched against the wall where we had left her. Her eyes strained against the darkness and she froze at the sound of our approach.

“Kyla, it’s alright; it’s us,” I said gently.

Relief washed through her face and she rose with a hand held out in our direction. I laced my fingers through hers and led her to an empty room. After a quick check to make sure it was truly vacant, I shut the door behind us and flipped on a flashlight. Everyone blinked in the sudden brightness.

“Marek, what-” Kyla’s eyes widened and she stared from Phoenix to me.

The cougar Shifter was already bandaging his wounded leg. I tested the knife, but couldn’t bring myself to pull it from my hand. I held it out to her. “I need you to remove this,” I said, ignoring a rise of nausea that filled my stomach.

Her mouth opened as she looked from my face to my palm. A trickle of blood ran down my hand, and I knew once the knife was removed there would be much more.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” she said, her voice tight. “We should bandage around it and let Dad deal with it.”

I shook my head. “We don’t have time, and we have to get back out there before they realize we split up and go after your dad and Flint.”

Her gaze warred between worry and determination when she took my damaged hand gently in hers. A tingle ran up my arm at her touch. I had sorely missed the feeling of her fingers on my skin. “You’re sure about this?” she asked quietly.

Before she could move, Phoenix leaned over and pulled the knife from my hand with a quick jerk. The wound began to bleed freely and I gritted my teeth against the rising pain. “Thanks,” I said tightly.

“Anytime,” the cougar Shifter replied, turning back to his leg. He pulled the straps he had cut off his vest around the wound tighter to hold pressure, then put weight on the leg to test the binding. He winced slightly and met my eyes. “Let’s go.”

I tore a strip off the bottom of my shirt and Kyla bound it quickly, her eyes wide and face pale. I opened and closed my hand, concerned at the swelling that had already set in enough to hamper movement. I turned away before Kyla could read my expression. “Let’s go before the Falconans regroup.”

Phoenix opened the door to the first room. I rushed in and caught the first Falconan just under the rib cage, my knife angled upwards. Spinning, I silenced the second with a slice across the throat. The third fumbled against the door in the dark. I threw the knife with a quick flick of my wrist. It sunk deep at the base of the Falconan’s neck.

“Save me a few,” Phoenix whispered in exasperation as he slipped through the door with Kyla close behind. She had a hand on Phoenix’s shoulder for guidance in the dark.

We continued down the hall, taking down the Falconans in each room. The lab scent grew the further we walked. My heart started to pound. We made our way down a side hall, dispatching four more Falconans efficiently and silently. I let Phoenix take the lead and fell back to lead Kyla through the absolute darkness. I could hear her quick breathing, but her hand was steady in mine. It was good to be near her again, even under the dire circumstances.

“This is it,” Phoenix whispered. He had a hand on the school’s lunchroom door. I drew another gun from my vest and made sure Kyla was behind me. At my nod, he pushed it open.

Falconans were everywhere. There must have been another generator that Kyla’s dad and Flint hadn’t found yet. Neon light gleamed off of cages, tables, computers, and lab equipment. A shot rang out and dust chipped from the bricks by Kyla’s head. Phoenix and I returned answering shots. Kyla dropped behind a metal table that Phoenix overturned. We returned shot for shot. Angry yells and cries of pain sounded from around the lab.

A shot from behind clipped Phoenix’s arm. Kyla spun and fired. The brawny Falconan in the door we had just entered fell back. Phoenix jumped up and slammed the door shut. He looked around wildly. I tossed him a metal bar from a nearby table and he rammed it through the door handles, locking more Falconans out and us in.

“What are you going to do, Marek?” Galbran’s voice crackled over the intercom; a hush fell over the room.

I glared up at the intercom above us. I wanted more than anything to see Galbran, to put an end to it all right then and there.

Galbran continued, “Are you going to kill all of them?” His voice was light, but I could tell it was forced. He hadn’t been expecting us. I looked around for the camera Galbran was watching us with. I spotted it in the far corner of the room and took aim. The camera shattered, but the words continued from the intercom above our heads. “If you kill them, I won’t be able to change them back.”

The words fell like a blow on my shoulders. I staggered against the wall. Change them back? Was it possible? I couldn’t center my thoughts. I tried to remind myself that there were dozens of Falconans pointing guns at us, waiting for us to show ourselves. But could they be changed back into children again? Could they go home? Shane could go home.

“Marek!” Phoenix shouted from behind the table. “He’s lying, Marek. Don’t believe him!” Phoenix pumped bullets into the intercom until it fuzzed with static, then went silent.

I met my friend’s eyes, shock surging through my heart. “But what if he’s telling the truth?” I crouched low, out of sight of the Falconans’ guns. A shot hit the table near my head.

“When have you known Galbran to tell the truth?” Phoenix argued. “Besides, this is a horrible time to change our minds.”

I looked at Kyla, torn and wanting to believe. “What if they could go home to their families?” I asked her quietly.

“We don’t have families.”

I spun on one knee, my gun pointed low. A Falconan lay beside the end of the table, blood pooling around him from a mortal wound in his stomach. One of his wings had been broken as well; it spread over him like a brown feathered blanket.

“What did you say?” I asked through clenched teeth. Instinct bade me to kill the Falconan without another thought, but I fought against it.

The Falconan looked calmly at the gun as blood flowed through his fingers. “We’re all dead anyway, just as you are, Shifter.”

My eyes narrowed. I heard Galbran’s voice in my mind. ‘The irony about all of this is that you aren’t even Marek. The human and wolf parts that make you up died. You are nothing, no one.’

“Galbran can’t change us back, and we can’t go home because we don’t have homes to go to. We’re dead to our families because we are truly dead.” The Falconan gave a harsh laugh, then clutched at his stomach in pain. “We all died to become what we are, just like you.”

I glanced back at Phoenix. The cougar Shifter stared at us both, his face pale. “Why should I listen to you?” I asked.

The Falconan’s lips pulled back in a snarl of pain. “I had someone I needed to live for.”

My heart slowed. “Who?”

He met my eyes, his own deep green and wide with pain. For a second, I saw a flash of a young, scared boy in the eyes of the Falconan. Everyone waited, listening to us. He gave a cough of pain and said, “My brother. He’s in the rejected cage and Galbran will kill him if he doesn’t get out of here.”

I stared at him; the familiarity of his story gripped my heart in a fist. I nodded, my heart pounding. “I’ll take care of him, don’t worry.”

He pushed up to a sitting position against the wall, blood pooling around him and his face the gray color of someone who was taking his last breaths. “You hear that?” he shouted, his eyes flashing. “Let them leave or you’ll answer to me.”

I looked at him with wide eyes.

“Go,” he growled. “You’ll have to kill any Falconans who stand between you and the auditorium, but at least you’ll get out of this room alive.”

He held out a bloody hand. I hesitated and glanced over the edge of the table, but the other Falconans held their fire. I gritted my teeth and crossed the open floor to the wall. The Falconan grabbed my injured hand and pulled me close, ignoring my grimace of pain at the strength of his grip. “Get Andy out of here,” he growled, pain warring with sorrow in his eyes.

I nodded again and he let me go. The room was quiet. Kyla and Phoenix rose beside me, guns low but ready. The Falconans around the makeshift laboratory room stood still as the Falconan took one last breath and slumped back against the wall.

I rose and glanced warily at the quiet Falconans. “Let’s go,” I said to Phoenix and Kyla. I took the bar from the door and opened it slowly. Falconans waited in the dark with guns drawn. I let out a slow breath as I pulled the trigger with my left hand. The first shot took down a Falconan on the right, followed by his neighbor, then two more near the middle of the hall.

I ducked back behind the door and slid a new clip into my gun as answering bullets peppered the wood. Phoenix kept low and opened the door just far enough to shoot. A yell sounded when a bullet met its target. I looked back, worried that the Falconans behind us would attack to defend their brethren, but none of them moved.

“Clear,” Phoenix said; blood streamed from the gunshot wound in his arm, but he didn’t appear to notice. Kyla wrapped a quick bandage around it, then nodded at me.

I stepped out into the darkness and Kyla and Phoenix followed. A pad of feet sounded behind us and I spun. My heart leaped when I saw Tarnick and his gang with several other Shifters around them. A few had already phased and I smiled at the intimidating sight of several wolves, a leopard, and two coyotes pacing toward us.

“Reinforcements,” Phoenix said with a satisfied grin.

He held out his hand and Tarnick took it. “Long time no see, old man,” the gang leader said with a steely smile.

“Good to see life on the street’s been good to you,” Phoenix replied, glancing at Tarnick’s group.

“There’ll be time to catch up later,” I warned them quietly. “We’re about to be overrun.” The sound of hundreds of footsteps echoed down the four different hallways that led to our hall. Tarnick’s gang pulled out guns, knives, and clubs; the Shifters already in animal form spread out around us.

I led Kyla to a tiny alcove next to the drinking fountain. “Stay here,” I said. It wasn’t my place to order her around, but I wouldn’t be able to fight if I was worried about her safety.

Her green eyes held mine. “Be careful.”

Her hands shook, but she held her gun as though ready to use it. I hesitated, then leaned in and kissed her. She closed her eyes and kissed me back. The moment was fleeting, but the touch of her lips stayed with me as I walked swiftly back to the front of the hall. Phoenix checked his guns and threw me an extra clip. I slid it into my vest and listened to the footsteps draw closer.

Chapter 47– Kyla

I peered around the corner, but the dark hallway showed only shadows of Marek’s small battalion. My eyes fought to focus in the darkness. I wished for the first time that I was one of them, that I could see in the dark and could fight next to them with the knowledge that they had my back and we fought as a pack. Instead, I sat in the dark hoping they would take down the Falconans before the beasts found me. There had to be another way.

I tried to think of what I could do when a body brushed past my hideout. The soft touch of a feather on my cheek made my blood run cold. “Falconans!” I shouted. I dropped to the floor in time to avoid the cold bite of the soldier’s wing blades. I scooted under the drinking fountain just as a feline growl sounded and the Falconan was attacked by several of Marek’s group.

The black forms struggled and several more ran past. The Falconan grabbed the leopard Shifter and threw him into the wall with a sickening thud. Two others fought to keep the beast down, but it lashed out with a knife and cut deep into the stomach of one of its attackers. The last Shifter held on with a desperate fury. The Falconan grabbed his neck in both hands and clamped down, then he froze at the cold metal of my gun barrel against his forehead. I closed my eyes and squeezed the trigger.

The thwack of the silenced gun sounded loud in the confines of the hallway and the Falconan slumped to the floor. I opened my eyes to find Tarnick staring at me, his eyes wide. “Thanks,” he forced out past his bruised throat.

“Anytime,” I replied, my chest heaving.

He rose to his feet and helped me back into the alcove. “You’d better stay here,” he said softly. “I wouldn’t want to be on Marek’s bad side if something happened to you.” He disappeared into the fray before I could say anything.

The sound of fighting slowly diminished until only a few low moans could be heard. I started when a black shadow ghosted up and took my hand. “It’s alright,” Marek whispered. “It’s me.”

The brush of his bandaged hand against my hair reassured me; I followed him around the motionless black forms. He limped, but no sound of pain escaped his lips. I could feel damp blood that had soaked through the makeshift bandage on his hand, but he didn’t seem to notice. Several in his group waited for us at the end of the hallway.

“The cops are here,” Tarnick whispered.

Marek nodded. “Send two of your boys to tell them we have Shifters in the fight. There’s too much going on and I don’t want anyone to get shot.” His voice tightened at his words, but he turned and led us down the next hall.

A rustle of bodies and gunshots told of fights happening all over the school. My heart thundered in my chest. We passed several classrooms and Marek sent Shifters in to finish the Falconans inside. He followed something I couldn’t see, his eyes flashing gold in the beam of the emergency light that flickered overhead. My hands shook and my breath caught in my throat.

He led us to a set of double doors that were heavily guarded by Falconans. He pulled out another flash grenade and I knew this time to duck behind the wall and cover my eyes and ears when the explosion sounded. “Stay here,” Marek said afterward.

I was beginning to hate it when he said that, but he dropped my hand and turned down the hallway with the other Shifters around him. I peeked out to watch them take down the writhing Falconans with swift, ruthless efficiency.

The fierce snarl on Marek’s face told how much he hated killing; but there was fierce determination in his eyes. He was finally getting his chance to atone at least a little bit for the pain and heartache caused by Galbran, the Falconans, and the labs. He would make sure Galbran had kidnapped his last child.

I watched the last Falconan fell to the ground when a heavy footstep sounded behind me. I turned with my gun out, but a thick arm knocked it aside and a hand clamped on my throat, lifting me from the ground and holding me against the wall. I kicked him in the groin, but the Falconan merely lifted his lips in what might pass for a smile.

I tried to cry out for help, but his fingers tightened, cutting off my windpipe. I struggled against his hands, trying to find some way to loosen his grip, but he wouldn’t let go. The gleam in his eyes told of his enjoyment at watching me die. But I refused to be a victim.

The edges of my vision sparked with white and my heart thumped erratically against my chest. I slipped a hand behind my back and found the knife in the sheath Marek had given me. I pulled it out and stuck it in the Falconan’s eye. He dropped me and stumbled back just as Marek stepped around the corner and slit his throat. Marek pushed the beast away and rushed to my side.

“Are you alright?” he breathed, checking me over quickly.

I nodded, but my throat hurt and my eyes burned with tears. He pulled me against his chest and held me tight. “It’s okay,” he said quietly. “It’s over. He’s dead.”

I swallowed past the angry throbbing and pushed him gently back. “I’m alright,” I said, my voice ragged. “Let’s finish this.” I picked up my gun and checked to make sure there was a bullet in the chamber.

He stared at me for a minute, his golden eyes searching mine. When he saw I was serious, he helped me up and put his arm around me.

“Geesh, Kyla,” Phoenix said, meeting us at the corner. “You don’t have to take them on by yourself, you know.” He smiled, but the worry in his eyes as he looked me up and down to make sure I was alright was comforting. I was one of the pack.

Chapter 48- Marek

Tarnick’s men opened the doors to reveal the auditorium. Falconans were hunkered down behind tables and equipment, ready to defend Galbran’s work. A shot rang out and a bullet struck close to my head. I dove to the side and fired two answering shots. They hit two Falconans who slumped down near the far wall.

Phoenix and the others came rushing in behind me. Kyla crouched near my table and fired. Her arm was steady and expression tight as she took down a Falconan near a cage of children. The huge room was filled with more cages, testing equipment, and experiments of all kinds. The scent of anesthetic, blood, birds, and fear colored the air.

The Falconans outnumbered us at least three to one. “Take your time,” I shouted to the Shifters. “Make every shot count.” In answer, three more Falconans fell, then a Shifter next to Phoenix collapsed to the ground followed by another near the door. More footsteps sounded down the hall behind us. Phoenix met my eyes. We were surrounded.

The doors to the opposite side of the auditorium burst open. Police officers in SWAT gear stormed in, firing as they moved. Falconans shot back, but their bullets bounced ineffectively off the shields the officers carried.

“Take them down!” I shouted. My team shot at the Falconans who were distracted by the officers. They began to fall back, grouping together behind a stand of tables and cabinets.

The doors behind us opened, but we were ready. We peppered the Falconans with bullets so heavily they retreated. The Falconans behind the barrier stopped shooting. They looked as though they didn’t know whether to fight or surrender.

I spotted Officer Brayton across the room. “Drop your weapons!” he barked. The Falconans looked at each other, then the welcome sound of guns falling to the floor answered. The officers surged forward.

“Kyla, Marek!” Kip yelled from a big cage in the corner. Other Lost were in that cage, too, their eyes wide and faces pale as though they had seen things children their age shouldn’t have to deal with. My heart went out to them.

“Kip!” Kyla shouted. She ran across the room and grabbed his hand through the cage.

Two officers joined her while Officer Brayton crossed the room to me. His face was flushed and a bruise colored one cheek, but the fire in his eyes deepened when he reached me. “My officers followed Galbran to the roof. I assume you want to help me take him down,” he said.

“Where?” I demanded.

He opened his mouth to answer when the auditorium doors behind me flew open. Mr. March and Flint stumbled in, shoved by an angry Ras.

“Marek!” the Falconan shouted; his yellow eyes flashed angrily.

“Let me handle this,” I told Officer Brayton. He looked like he wanted to argue, but my tone left no room for argument. A quick check of my weapons revealed an empty gun and one knife.

Ras’ lips pulled back in a snarl when his eyes met mine. He stalked forward, his outstretched wings making him look twice as big. “I should have known you’d be here, Marek.” He spat my name. My emotions warred between anger at what he had become and pain at the shadow of Shane that remained behind his eyes. I couldn’t accept that it was him, but my brother’s next words turned my blood cold.

“Have you seen them, brother? Have you seen our parents with little Matthew? Our precious little brother?” Ras smashed a microscope. He yelled, “The brother that replaced us?”

We circled each other now. Falconans and humans alike stared in silence, unable to do anything. Mr. March held Kyla and Kip while Phoenix and Flint calmed the Lost. It was all a blur to me. I saw only my little brother, now a huge, genetically altered Falconan because he had never been rescued.

“Matthew will be the next one I visit,” Ras said, his eyes rolling maniacally. “Wouldn’t that serve them right, to have two Falconans and a freak Shifter for children? Or do you think they’d just forget about all of us and have another?”

“Don’t talk about them like that,” I growled. “They loved us!”

“Oh, really. Did they love you when they called the cops?”

I was at a loss for words. Anger and frustration burned inside me like an inferno. I lunged at Ras. The Falconan’s eyes widened in surprise. He tripped over a chair and fell with me on top of him. Before I could get a good hold, Ras kicked and sent me flying into a table.

I rolled to my feet in time to dodge a thrown chair followed by an expensive looking piece of lab equipment that shattered across the floor. I dove under another chair, then tackled Ras against the wall. The Falconan punched me in the stomach, then the ribs. I grunted, feeling my ribs give way. Ras shoved me and I fell over a table to the floor. Vials and microscopes crashed to the ground.

The Falconan was on top of me, clawing at my eyes. I struggled, but couldn’t get away. I heard Kyla scream my name. Ras reached behind me and grabbed a shard of glass from the table debris.

I swung a leg around him and rolled over, drawing the knife from its sheath at my ankle. I pinned Ras to the floor, the knife at his throat.

My chest heaved. I could feel my bruised ribs protesting through the fog of adrenaline. I glared into my brother’s yellow eyes and fought back the instinct that urged me to end Ras’ life, to stop the torment, danger, and pain my brother had brought to me and so many others.

“I never gave up looking for you,” I growled, my grip on the knife so tight my knuckles turned white. Blood dripped through the soaked bandage around my hand and colored the blade. I held it steady at the Falconan’s jugular. “I wanted more than anything to bring you home, to make it right.

Ras forced his words out through his tight throat, “You failed me, brother.” He swallowed against my grip, then repeated, “You failed me.” His words softened and there were tears in his voice when he continued, “I waited for you, Marek, but you never came.”

I blinked past the tears that filled my eyes. “I won’t fail you again,” I replied past the knot in my throat.

My heart pounded, my vision clouded with hot, angry tears. My hands were steady despite the blood that thundered in my ears. Slowly, I backed up off my brother. I threw the knife hard toward the closest wall; the blade struck and snapped in half. The hilt and blade made a loud clatter on the tile floor.

My chest heaving, I motioned to Officer Brayton. He stepped forward and fastened handcuffs around Ras’ wrists. The Falconan glared at me with iron rage. His eyes narrowed, the sorrow in them turning to hate. There was nothing left of my brother in those eyes. I stumbled back and let them lead him away.

“Let’s go,” I said to Officer Brayton. My heart ached; I wanted more than anything to finish this and leave the labs once and for all. Phoenix fell in beside me and looked for a second like he was going to argue, but I shook my head and silenced him with a look before he could open his mouth.

Officer Brayton glanced between us, then nodded. He left through the door and I followed, throwing one last anxious glance back to make sure Kyla, Kip, Mr. March, and Flint were safely surrounded by the police officers who defended the room.

Officer Brayton led me down a narrow hallway to a flight of stairs. We run up them to find officers around the door that led outside. Several were wounded and one looked like he wasn’t going to make it. “What happened?” Officer Brayton demanded.

“Falconans showed up,” one of the few uninjured officers said. He held pressure to a man’s shoulder while another tied his belt around the man’s bleeding leg.

Officer Brayton sword softly and took a quick survey of his men. Of the five, only the one assisting his comrades looked up to a fight. “Radio Hamilton to escort the paramedics up here. Follow us out when backup arrives.”

The Officer nodded and turned back to the man he assisted.

“Ready?” Officer Brayton asked us.

I pulled open the door, glanced out, then we ran onto the roof. Phoenix covered my right side while Brayton took my left. We fell in behind an air conditioning vent and listened to the sounds of struggle beyond.

I took a deep breath that pulled at my bruised ribs. “Galbran!” I shouted, my voice fueled with rage.

“I knew it was you, Marek.” Galbran’s cold voice brought ice to my veins. “Only you could cause me so much trouble after all I’ve done for you.”

I clenched and unclenched my hands. “You deserve every bit of pain I bring you,” I growled. “You’ve ruined your last life. The police are with me and they’ll make sure your experimenting days are over.”

“You’re worthless scum, Marek,” Galbran replied with a snarl. “You’re nothing but a failed experiment.”

I ground my teeth to keep from baring them. I took a calming breath. “You’ve never made anything but failed experiments.” Galbran’s breath caught and I knew I had hit a sore subject. I rose slowly from my crouch and tried to find him over the edge of the vent. “How many children’s lives did you steal? How many families did you destroy? How do you account for the thousands of childhoods you took away?”

I crept closer to the man who was responsible for my unhappiness, for the necessity of the pack, for taking Raven’s wings, for destroying my family, for May, for Shane. I was aware at the same time of the Falconans that surrounded him, protecting him with their lives. Drawing him out was my best option. “There’s no place for someone like you in this world. You’re more like an animal than any of us, lower than an animal. You not only experimented on other people’s children, you did it to your own son.”

When Galbran stood, outrage in his eyes, I was ready. I dove over the vent and tackled him to the ground before the Falconans around him could move. I grabbed him in a headlock and pinned him with my knee on his back. “Tell them to back down or I’ll snap your spine,” I growled threateningly into his ear.

“Stand down,” Galbran said hoarsely. The Falconans hesitated. “I said stand down! Weapons to the floor!” he yelled. The Falconans around us dropped their weapons and backed up. I heard the sound of officers filing through the door to the roof.

I held in my hands the life of the man I hated most in the world. I bared my teeth. “Flint is better than you, Galbran. We all are,” I said quietly in his ear. He opened his mouth to protest, but I squeezed tighter and he gasped instead. Blood pounded in my ears and the faces of those he had hurt flashed through my mind.

I saw May’s still face, her eyes closed as if she slept. I heard Raven’s cry of pain the night he tried to shift and realized he could no longer fly. I thought of the thousands of Lost we had returned home, and of those we had missed. The Falconans I had killed below had been someone’s children, their sons and daughters. I thought of Ras; my brother was gone from his eyes, he was a now a killing machine thanks to one man’s selfish desires.

My grip tightened and no one moved to stop me. Galbran’s breath gurgled beneath my fingers and he let out a straggled cry, clawing at my hands, but they were numb to his touch. Blood dripped down my arm from the knife wound through my hand. A drop fell to the roof, the sound loud in the expectant silence.

The thought that Galbran deserve a fate far worse than what I could bring loosened my grip. I let him back down slowly. The Falconans around us were already in handcuffs thanks to Brayton’s officers. I stepped away from Galbran so Officer Brayton could handcuff him as well.

I took a step back and my knees gave; I would have fallen, but Phoenix caught me. He slipped my arm over his shoulders and helped me lean against the vent. “You don’t have to fight every battle by yourself,” he reminded me quietly.

I watched them drag Galbran to his feet and lead him toward the door. I met the scientist’s cold blue eyes. “Funny how the tables turn, isn’t it?” I said. “Instead of me, it’s you who is alone now, and it will be you who will die someday unloved and unmourned.” I gathered my strength and pushed the door open, then led them down the stairs. Phoenix walked beside me, his shoulders straight and a pride in his eyes that I had never seen before.

We crossed the hall and stepped out into the parking lot to find hundreds of parents and children waiting for us. News vans were parked on the grass and television reporters rushed forward. I stopped in surprise and Kyla ran up to me, her eyes bright. Shadow and Raven appeared behind her. “You told us to call everyone,” they said.

I stared out at the families of the Lost we had returned home. They watched quietly as Galbran was led to a waiting police car. The scientist paused when he saw Flint. The young wolf Shifter met his father’s gaze and for a brief second, Flint’s dark eyes turned golden. Galbran flinched. Flint moved his gaze from Galbran to me and a hint of triumph filled them before he turned away and ignored his father completely. Galbran was shoved past his son and settled securely inside the car.

Officers leading the Falconans followed close behind. “We’re going to have to seriously reconsider Falconan protection,” Officer Brayton said. He crossed his arms and watched with a satisfied smile as his officers locked up those who had survived our attack. The loaded cars drove away while other officers swept the school for remaining Falconans. Other units arrived and began making what sense they could of the chaos of bodies inside.

“I’m glad you called us,” Officer Brayton said. He held out a hand to shake, then saw the shape my hand was in and let his drop. “You could have waited until we arrived.”

I gave a small smile. “There wasn’t time, but I greatly appreciate your help.”

“Maybe it’s time you take me up on the offer to work closer together,” he said, his eyes kind.

“Maybe,” I agreed.

He nodded and turned back to his men. “Officer Brayton?” He glanced back at me. “What are you going to do with the Falconans?”

His gaze softened slightly as he looked from me to the cars disappearing toward the police headquarters at the center of the city. “I’m not sure. The government will definitely be interested in what went on here. Unfortunately for us, the Falconans lay under government jurisdiction.” His eyes darkened. “But I’ll make sure they’re moved far from Charlton.”

My heart tightened, but I nodded and he went back to his men.

“How do you know Officer Brayton?” Kyla asked, her voice soft. She ducked under my arm and I found myself leaning on her more than I liked, but she smiled warmly at me as though she expected it. She took my hand gently in hers and checked the messy bandage. She shook her head and rewrapped it with fresh ones she borrowed from one of the passing EMTs.

“We stole his twin boys back from Galbran last year.” I smiled at the memory. “Talk about a tense moment. He had his own house staked out and when we showed up at midnight with the Nathan and Jason, they pulled guns on us and had us on our stomachs in the snow with our hands behind our backs.”

“I’d never been so humiliated,” Phoenix said from behind us.

I laughed, then winced at the pain the jolted through my bruised ribs. “Phoenix wanted to tear them apart, but I convinced him not to.”

“You ordered me not to,” Phoenix replied darkly. “It’s not the same thing.”

I nodded. “But lucky for us, the twins told their dad what happened and stopped him from arresting us.”

“Who knows what Shadow and Flint would have done with the Den?” Phoenix commented.

“Whisper would have taken over,” a soft, rusty voice said from behind us.

I turned and looked at Flint in surprise. He didn’t smile, but color touched his cheeks at our attention. I pretended like him talking was a normal thing. “She would have ruled the Downs.”

He gave me an appreciative look and ducked his head.

I turned back to Kyla, a wave of gratitude filling my chest. “Office Brayton’s been trying to help us ever since, but because the Falconan’s are the government’s business, I haven’t involved them much because by law they can’t interfere.”

“Until now,” Phoenix pointed out, watching the officer who was definitely in his element as he directed EMTs and police men through the school. Unmarked black cars with tinted windows pulled up and several men in uniforms I didn’t recognize climbed out. Officer Brayton walked down to meet them.

“We definitely meddled with a few lines,” I agreed.

Raven and Shadow came up to us from where they had been meeting with the group of parents and Lost. “They want to talk to you,” Shadow said, his blue eyes bright.

I had never been big on crowds, but the eager expressions on their faces left little room for argument. Television cameras pointed in my direction, their red lights blinking as reporters held out microphones. Kyla stood on one side of me while Phoenix took the other. I took a steeling breath. “Thank you for coming,” I said.

The edges of my heart that were raw from the confrontation with Ras were soothed by the happy expressions on parents’ faces as they held their little ones and knew that they were safe from Galbran and the Falconans once and for all.

“We owe you everything,” Dr. Henderson said. The doctor was a neurosurgeon whose five year old daughter was kidnapped three years ago. He was one of the men who donated money to help keep the Den working. The brown haired girl who held his hand bounced up and down on her toes, her dark eyes bright.

Several other parents nodded, hope and relief bright in their eyes.

My heart ached when I saw Mr. and Mrs. March at the edge of the crowd, little Whisper between them. She looked so happy, and the smile Mrs. March gave her was full of such tender, motherly warmth I knew she truly did find the home she deserved. I blinked and smiled at the people around me. “I don’t know what’s in store for Galbran or the Falconans, but at least we can sleep at night knowing the children are safe.”

A mother stepped forward and hugged me, then another and another until all of the Shifters were caught up in a wave of gratitude. Phoenix eventually ran interference while Kyla and I slipped away.

“You’ve given them something priceless,” she said, her eyes bright as she helped me to my motorcycle.

I leaned against it and crossed my arms gingerly. “What’s that?”

I followed her gaze to her brother who now held Whisper on his shoulders. Rosie gurgled happily at them from Mrs. March’s arms, and the look of love and relief exchanged by Kyla’s parents made every bruise from the night well worth it. “You gave them freedom to live their lives again without the fear that their loved ones might disappear and never return.”

“The world is still dangerous,” I reminded her.

She gave me a gentle smile that stole my breath away. “Yet here you are, making it safer all by yourself.”

I shook my head, my gaze serious. “Not by myself.”

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed me softly on the lips. The taste of her kiss lingered when she moved back. “Not by yourself,” she agreed with love in her beautiful green eyes.

I put my helmet on; she reached up and buckled the chin strap before I could attempt it with my injured hand. “Are you sure you can drive?” she asked with concern in her voice.

I pushed up the visor and met her eyes. “Right now, I can do anything.”

She smiled and stepped back. Phoenix revved his engine and we drove off together. I glanced back once at the lone girl standing at the edge of the parking lot. She waved and I waved back, the new bandage on my hand still carrying her soft scent. I shut my visor, then turned into the night no longer afraid of shadows or wings. The darkness was mine, and I would ensure that it was safe.

Chapter 49- Mr. March

Mr. March went in for questioning a few days later. Officer Brayton apologized, but said it was protocol since he had been the only adult at the scene. They asked Mr. March what happened and he outlined the parts he knew. He asked about the fate of Galbran and the Falconans, but Office Brayton didn’t have any answers.

A man in a black suit watched the proceedings from a chair in the corner, then asked one of his own. “What happened to the Shifters who were allowed to leave the scene?”

Mr. March caught the accusing stare the man threw Officer Brayton, but Brayton either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“They left,” Mr. March replied shortly.

“What about this Marek? Where did he go?” the man pressed, his tone firm and unyielding.

“I don’t know,” Mr. March replied honestly with a sad shake of his head. “I haven’t seen him since that night.”

Chapter 50- Kyla

I took a cup of punch from the refreshments table. I felt silly attending the ball without a date, but it seemed a waste to leave the purple dress in the closet, especially since this would be the last opportunity to wear it.

School would be over soon. Mom said I should enjoy it while it lasted. She had also been more than thrilled to do my hair, and primped until I couldn’t stand it anymore. Dad dropped me off at the dance, embarrassing me by asking only half-jokingly if I would like him to be my date. He took it well enough when I said I already had plans to meet some friends there.

Kim came by with her date, a big basketball player named Johnny. They took some punch and chatted with me about the colleges that were coming for college week. Everyone seemed to have made their college choices already, something else I hadn’t decided on. Why was everyone in a rush to move on? It seemed I had only just learned to appreciate what I already had.

I was listening half-heartedly to Johnny’s excited recount of the various basketball scholarships he had been offered when something made me turn. I felt a jolt of electricity when Marek’s deep blue eyes met mine across the ballroom. He was standing in a black tuxedo with a purple corsage in his bandaged hand. Kim and Johnny followed my gaze.

“Oh, he’s cute,” Kim said.

I crossed the ballroom floor without thought save for the blue eyes that watched me as if he knew every emotion that flooded through my body. Couples drifted around me, the music they danced to faint in my ears.

Marek smiled when I reached him, his eyes solemn. “I couldn’t bear to think of you here by yourself.” His eyes lingered on the necklace around my neck. The blue gem didn’t match my dress, but I had stubbornly refused to take it off when Mom suggested it.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” I replied. I could have kicked myself for saying it.

Marek shook his head. “I couldn’t let you down. I’ve done that too many times already.” He took a deep breath, his eyes troubled. “Would you understand what I meant if I said you mean too much to me for me to risk hurting you?” I nodded wordlessly, unable to speak past the knot in my throat. He shook his head. “But being away from you is killing me. I should stay away, but I can’t.”

He avoided my eyes. I took his hand gently and traced the faint white scar on the back. “I know who you are, and I’m glad you didn’t stay away.”

Marek lifted his eyes to mine. “Really?”

I nodded. “Without a doubt.”

He smiled and took my hand, the light from above catching the gold flecks in his deep blue eyes. “Shall we?”

Thank you for reading Stolen! I hope you enjoyed it. If you like werewolf books, I highly recommend reading The Silver Series. The first book in the series is here:

Amazon link for Silver

If you are in the mood for a different kind of adventure, try the space opera action adventure The Girl from the Stars:

Amazon link for Daybreak

Or if you are in the search for a new kind of werewolf series, try The Wolfborne Series here:

Amazon link for Defiance

BOOKS BY CHEREE ALSOP

The Silver Series-

Silver

Black

Crimson

Violet

Azure

Hunter

Silver Moon

The Werewolf Academy Series-

Book One: Strays

Book Two: Hunted

Book Three: Instinct

Book Four: Taken

Book Five: Lost

Book Six: Vengeance

Book Seven: Chosen

The Haunted High Series-

The Wolf Within Me

The Ghost Files

City of Demons

Cage the Beast

Ashes of Night

Heart of the Wolf Part One

Heart of the Wolf Part Two

The Galdoni Series-

Galdoni

Galdoni 2: Into the Storm

Galdoni 3: Out of Darkness

The Small Town Superheroes Series-

Small Town Superhero

Small Town Superhero II

Small Town Superhero III

Keeper of the Wolves

Stolen

The Million Dollar Gift

Thief Prince

When Death Loved an Angel

The Shadows Series

Shadows- Book One in the World of Shadows

Mist- Book Two in the World of Shadows

The Monster Asylum Series

Book One- The Fangs of Bloodhaven

Girl from the Stars

Book 1- Daybreak

Book 2- Daylight

Book 3- Day’s End

Book 4- Day’s Journey

Book 5- Day’s Hunt

The Pirate from the Stars

The Dr. Wolf Series

Book 1- Shockwave

Book 2- Demon Spiral

Book 3- The Four Horsemen

Book 4- Dragon’s Bayne

The Wolfborne Saga

Book 1- Defiance

Book 2- Ricochet

Book 3- Dark Coven

Book 4- Ghost Moon

The Prince of Ash and Blood

Game Breaker

Orion’s Fall

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About the Author

Cheree Alsop is an award-winning, best-selling author who has published over 50 books. She is the mother of a beautiful, talented daughter and amazing twin sons who fill every day with joy and laughter. She is married to her best friend, Michael, the light of her life and her soulmate who shares her dreams and inspires her by reading the first drafts and giving much appreciated critiques. Cheree works as a fulltime author and mother, which is more play than work! She enjoys reading, traveling to tropical beaches, riding motorcycles, playing the bass for the band Alien Landslide, spending time with her wonderful children, and going on family adventures. Cheree and Michael live in Utah where they rock out, enjoy the outdoors, plan great quests, and never stop dreaming.