Rising Shadows (5 page)

Fire erupts under my skin. All I want now is to make Gates suffer.  “That was a big mistake.”

Arcana is building so fast I can’t hold it. I fixate on Gates looking for vulnerabilities. Alonzo was a werewolf and Gates is just a run of the mill human. No shapes to divide from his body. Nothing that defines him as supernatural and giving me something to work with. My thumping heart echoes inside my head. Another heartbeat joins in. This one belongs to Gates and it is racing. I know it’s his heart because it beats in time with the pulse jumping at his throat. He’s terrified of what I’m going to do to him. I focus all my energy on his heart. I squeeze. Gates clutches at his chest, letting go of Livia in the process. He opens his mouth to yell, and a blue beam spills out of him.

Livia
hits the floor, and a stout biker scoops her up and out of the way. Gates staggers forward and crumples to his knees. Chaos ensues as the patrons of the Lune Rouge annihilate the remaining three of Richland’s guards. Gates puts to use his remaining strength to raise the pistol and fire it at me. The bullet catches my shoulder, and I fall. My skull bounces off the plank floor before settling.

Livia
sits by my side. She strokes my hair with her good hand and pleads with me.  “You can’t leave me Rachel. Please, don’t leave me.”

Hot tears edge out the corners of my eyes.
What will become of Livia?
Who will take care of her?
The lavender haired bartender kneels down next to me and catches my hand. Her lips are moving, but I hear nothing. Darkness consumes me.

CHAPTER 4

Rachel

More than once I tried to claw my way up from unconsciousness. I remain unable to move through the arguing and crying, people prodding my body.
All I want is to wake up. I’ve got to find Livia.
Pain propels me over the threshold of sleep and into waking. Another prison cell. Not a sugar coated version like at the institute. Brick walls and a door made of steel bars cage me.

The fiery throbbing on the left side of my body calls to mind I was shot. The bullet entered below the collar bone. White bandages wrap my shoulder and encircle my chest covering my breasts. To hold my arm immobile, a bandage is holding my arm to my side at the elbow. The wound itches and I scratch at it absentmindedly. I realize too late it is going to hurt, except it doesn’t.
I got shot, why doesn’t it hurt? Just a second ago it hurt like hell.
Gingerly, I peel back the bandage to look at the wound. Before my eyes, I can see it healing.
Well, that’s not normal. Um, thank you Arcana?

A pair of jeans and a tee shirt have
been laid out for me at the foot of the cot. Whoever the jeans belong to is close to my size. Well-worn with holes in the knees, the jeans fit comfortably, but the t-shirt is too big. I don’t mind. Fitted clothing would aggravate my wound. Dressing is cumbersome, and it burns, but I manage. Utilizing my good arm, I run my hand through the tangled mess on my head.

I turn towards the door, and a man is on the other side.
The guy that growled at the guard for grabbing me. My knight in shining armor, the man from the loft, close enough I could reach out and touch him. Tall, lean, and muscular, his hair is an earthy dark coffee color with gold highlights; longish and unruly. His jaw is clean shaven and he wears a pair of dark blue jeans and a grey sweater. Not glowing, so maybe I imagined it, but his green eyes are still amazing as he carefully takes me in.
Did he watch me get dressed?

He crosses his arms over his chest, widening his stance.  “If I think you are going to try any of your Jedi mind tricks on me I will break your neck before you can blink.”

My jaw drops and I sputter,  “Um, that’s fair. Wait, if I am a Jedi does that mean you believe I am one of the good guys?”

One corner of his mouth tips up.  “No, it means I like Star Wars.”

“Bummer,”  I mutter.

I make bad jokes when I am nervous. He’s too handsome for my brain to view him as threatening.
Stupid brain.
He’s a werewolf. Of that, I am sure. Different from Alonzo, no aura. Born, not made.

“My name is
Bastien” he says.  “You and I need to discuss what happened in Lune Rouge last night”

I take a step forward and grasp the bars.  “I will tell you everything down to the last detail, promise, but first, please, how is
Livia?”

“You really care about her, don’t you?” he comments softly.

Tears threaten to spill over.  “I do. Do what you want with me, but she needs help. The men who held us captive shot her up with a virus; it’s going to kill her.”

“She’s sick, the fever started a few hours ago. I promise everything is being done to help her. Right now I need to get some answers from you. What the hell happened last night? Are you a witch? Is that what the blue light was?”

Retreating to the cot, I sit down gingerly to rest my aching side.  “Arcana. They call the blue light Arcana. I’m no witch. I was given a virus like Livia. It induces mutations in the brain. I don’t know about any others, but my Arcana makes a blue light when in use.” I feel the heat in my cheeks.

Bastien
nods,  “Did the military or the government do that to you?”

“I don’t know where they get their funding. Might be the president, might be from neighborhood bake sales. The place is called the Richland Institute. A psychotic asshole named Richland runs things. He has a plan to rid the world of anything not human.
Arcana was designed to level the playing field. That much he told me. Clearly he’s not taking into account the experiments might not be keen on cooperating with him.”

I start at the beginning and tell him everything. He listens to every word. Halfway through my tale, I start to pace.
Bastien obviously doesn’t think I am a threat because he unlocked the cell to sit on my cot some time ago. Finally, I run out of things to tell. He runs a weary hand down his face before leaning back against the bricks.

“Guess Dad was right when he said this was going to bring the tribunal down on our heads. It will take a few hours before they’re all assembled. You are going to need to repeat what you told me to the council. For what it is worth, I believe you.” Sympathy warms his eyes. I could look at them all day, but I am worried about what he just said.

“Tribunal? Council? What are those?”  I ask.

“Governing bodies. The tribunal is comprised of the heads of each house for all the major families, Packs, Vampire Clans, Covens, and Fae Courts.”

The United Nations of the not quite human?

“The council is
Therian community only,” he says.

“Therian? What does that mean?”

“
Therian is short for therianthropy, which is the metamorphosis of a man into an animal. Therian is the word we use to encompass all species of shape shifters.”

“Great. I am just learning to handle the idea of werewolves, and now you throw vampires and fairies my way,” I huff.

“Fae,” he corrects.

“Whatever.”

He has the nerve to laugh.  “Baby, you have no idea what you just got cast into, do you? Therians and Vampires are the bulk of the tribunal in this region. The others rarely show up. Witches are too human to care about our problems. Fae are stuck up. They live on an alternate plane of existence parallel to ours. If it does not happen over there, we’re not likely to see them.”

Soberly I ask
,  “How much trouble am I in?”

His sigh is heavy and brings me no relief.  “Humans want to use you as a weapon, right?”

“Yes, but don’t I get points for foiling their evil plan?” I murmur.

“You already cashed that favor in otherwise you would be dead. The vote barely went in favor of keeping you
alive long enough to find out what you know.”

“What are my chances?” I demand.

“I won’t lie, they're slim. I intend to talk to my dad about vouching for you. He’s the alpha over all the other wolf packs. It gives him influence in political matters.”

The council or tribunal may decide to kill me, but surely
Livia will not be considered a threat.
Would they kill a child?
  “What about Livia? They won’t hurt her, will they? She’s only five, how dangerous can she be?”

Bastien
sighs.  “That’s a little more difficult. Did you know she’s not human?”

“I noticed she was different, but hadn’t had time to think about it,” I answer, surprised.

“She’s half werewolf. My older brother Athan went missing over a decade ago. Many have disappeared through the years. Madalaina and I both noticed his scent on the girl last night. Tests are being run, but they’re only a formality. She’s Athan’s daughter. Her mother’s side of the family is where things become interesting.” He sounds bitter.  “Winter, the Fae bartender from Lune Rouge, says Livia is a royal red Fae. If it is true, then she has a hard road ahead of her.”

“What’s a Royal Red?” I question.

“The Dawn Court, or Seelie court of Fairy has a special genetic quirk that runs through the females of the high royals, flaming red hair. Winter swears Livia’s one. Turns out they had a princess go missing not long after Athan. Only she turned up dead later. Rumor was she had given birth, but no one expected the child lived since ransom was never demanded.”

Overwhelmed I plop down next to
Bastien on the cot.  “This is all too much. My headache’s worse than before.”

He looks at me and brushes the hair off my forehead.  “Who gave you the bruise over your right eye?
A gift from the Richland Institute?”

“A gift from the guards, to be exact. Rifle butt hit me. It was a pretty nasty cut before.”

Warily, he touches the cut making me wince.  “Sorry.
Looks better than it did earlier. The Arcana you told me about might be helping you heal faster. I hope the guy that hit you is one of the two assholes I killed,” he snarled. I’ve no trouble imagining Bastien with blood on his hands. He has lethal predator written all over him. I am reminded of Alonzo.

“Oh God. Will I be charged with the death of Alonzo?” I ask, frightened.

I try to get up to pace again, but
Bastien catches me around the waist and pulls me on to his lap.  “I will keep you safe. Trust me to protect you.”

I shouldn’t let him touch me so intimately, but it feels nice to have someone be tender with me.
The magnetism I felt from his stare last night is stronger when he touches me.

“What is going to happen to me?” I whisper.  “Shifters don't frown on murder?”

Bastien takes hold of my chin and forces me to meet his gaze.  “What you described isn’t murder.”

Relieved, I hug
Bastien’s neck. He gives me hope and I've been without hope for a long time. I kiss him. I meant it to be a chaste touching of lips. Brief and passionless, to show gratitude. When our lips touched a spark flickers to life. His lips move gently under mine. My hand trails to his smooth cheek. He teases the hem of my shirt up just a fraction to stroke my side with the back of his fingers. Bastien stops the kiss to place tiny kisses down my neck. He pays special attention to the pulse at the base of my throat. Sharp teeth nip at the skin.

“What is that scent you’re wearing?”
Bastien asks me.

I shake my head.  “I’m not wearing any perfume.”

Bastien and I are kissing again, deeper this time. I’ve had sex once before.
What an epic fail.
I decided to fly solo until I found a better reason not to. Bastien is better than any fantasy I ever had.

“Ahem. Perhaps you can find a better time and place for this, son.”

Wrapped up in each other, Bastien and I didn’t hear his father approaching. I want to shrink away, but Bastien won’t let me hide. I am wrapped around him like a vine, and he won’t allow me to let go.

“We’ll be up in a minute, Dad.”

“Don’t make me wait too long, Bastien.” His footsteps recede up the stairs.

Alone again,
Bastien chuckles against my neck. I jump off his lap.

“How awful!” I cry. He arches an eyebrow at me.  “Oh no! Not the kiss. The kiss was nice. I meant your father walking in. Aren’t you embarrassed?”

“Not particularly.”
Bastien reaches up and holds out his hand to me,  “Wanna meet my family?”

Sure, why not?

Chapter 5

Rachel

    Bastien leads me upstairs to his father’s study. Claude Bonvillian introduces himself from behind a tremendous wooden desk. Its size emphasizes how big he is. He assesses me as we near the chairs in front of the desk.  “Well Rachel, you have made quite an impression in a short time. Especially on my son.” He smiles a little, putting me at ease.
Bastien’s dad owns the Lune Rouge.

“That was a misunderstanding. I mean it wasn’t supposed to happen. I threw myself at him.
Oh God.” I’m mortified but Bastien is amused. His hand is in front of his mouth, and he’s shaking with suppressed laughter.

“She’s cute, son. I understand your fascination with her. Happy as I am to see my boy take a serious interest in a woman, we’re short on time. You brought my granddaughter home; I am grateful. If you are going to survive the scrutiny of the council, you need to learn
Therian’s laws before tonight. My daughter Madalaina will go over protocol and teach you all she can.”

“Dad, I can teach protocol,”
Bastien protests.

“I think she will learn more with
Madalaina. Fewer distractions.”

Bastien
opens his mouth to argue again when a blonde girl bounces into the room popping bubble gum.

“He has a point big brother. I won’t be tempted to kiss her.” She gives him a cheeky grin.
Bastien narrows his eyes at his sibling. Claude smoothly cuts off his son before he can say anything. He points Bastien out of the room. I’m nervous without Bastien beside me.

Madalaina
reclines in Bastien’s empty chair with her legs draped over the armrest.  “Just us girls now.”

“Relax. I’m here to help you.” She pops her gum in between sentences.

“How’d you know we kissed?” I say to her.

“Smell. You smell like Bastien. Scent marking.”

I didn’t think it possible, but I’m even more flustered.

The carefree girl facade slips for a second and I can see the mature woman underneath.  “I would love to relax and gab with you for hours, learn everything there is to know about Rachel, but if you don’t pick up what I teach you fast, I doubt you will live. I love Bastien. Something big is brewing between you two and I won’t let his loss be on my hands. We need to get to work.”  Madalaina slides back into the effervescent girl in a blink.  “You’re about to get a crash course in all things shape shifter. To my knowledge no human has ever been told so much without already having a Therian mate. You’re unique.”

Madalaina
talks for the next three hours. Therians descend from Cain, as in biblical Cain and Abel. Therianthropy is a curse inflicted upon Cain for killing Abel. Act like an animal become an animal. The local shape shifter community consists of wolves, vipers, grizzlies, and one lion. Taka, the dragon I met in the tank, is a whole different creature Madalaina says. A handful of dragons remain in the city as foreign dignitaries. Dragos, the proper name for the dragons, were cursed as well, but by the Fae. Madalaina wouldn’t say much more about the Fae other than they’re not friendly. She tells me if I want to know more about the Fae, I can ask Winter the bartender I met at Lune Rouge.

After the history lesson, she broke down the hierarchy. At the very top is the Alpha Prime. He rules over each shape shifter without exception.
The alpha of all alphas. Usually that sort of strength runs in families, but it is not unheard of for someone outside the bloodline to challenge. Claude was the current Prime. He had expected Athan to lead after him, but with his disappearance it was unclear who would succeed him. Madalaina said Bastien is far too laid back to be Prime. I think she’s wrong. The Bastien I met is pretty intense.

Beyond the Prime,
is the Elite. The warriors. They’re the strongest and fastest. Betas follow, a class of average citizens. Children, elderly, injured, or impaired individuals are considered Omegas. They’re protected and taken care of. Human mates occasionally happen, though it is discouraged. They fall in the omega class as impaired.

Turning a person into a shifter is outlawed and punishable by death unless you have permission from the Prime. Humans live as long as their spouse in a mated pair, so most couples didn’t bother. The problem with turning a human is they cannot control their shift during the full moon.

According to the law, fighting is allowed only in front of the Prime or council. Unsanctioned fights required enough eyewitnesses to convince the council it was unavoidable or face retribution. An injured party could request the council issue a Weregild or man price, paid in possessions and flesh. Weregilds are a severe consequence as they’re capable of bankrupting or even being a death sentence.

Madalaina
guides me to her bedroom upstairs to find sufficient clothes. She’s quite a few inches taller and slimmer than me, so pants are out. She draws out a white dress with sparkly little crystals on the front from her closet. The dress belongs in a club, not a courtroom. I glance at Madalaina askance.

“Try it,” she responds.  “I know it’s not ideal, but white will help you seem innocent, everything else I own is a bad idea. I buy my clothing to drive Adele crazy.”  She insouciantly falls on her stomach across the bed.

“Who is Adele?”

“Mother dearest.
Athan disappeared when I was fifteen. She stopped being a devoted mother and decided her remaining children were not as important as the golden boy. Mother and I aren’t on speaking terms, at least civilly, most of the year.”

I did the math in my head; if she were fifteen when
Athan disappeared that would make her at minimum twenty years old now.

I study myself in the
mirror, the dress does look nice on me. I don’t have much as much to work with as Madalaina in the chest department. The straps are about an inch wide, and the hem hits mid-thigh. Blessed with a naturally tan complexion, I still look sallow from my time in Richland.
When was the last time I spent any time in the sun?
I think I qualify as cute rather than beautiful with my high cheek bones and dimples, they fit perfectly with my ready smile.
Used to be ready smile, haven’t had a reason to smile in ages.
My eyes are hazel and maybe a little squinty.

Madalaina
assists me in removing the bandages. The bullet wound is substantially healed.
Arcana is useful for something.
We elect to leave the big bandages off and place a smaller gauze over the wound.

My hair is limp and heavy, lacking style. A honey blonde, the highlights give it a warm glow that I think makes it my best feature. Turns out
Madalaina has a gift with hair. She whipped out a set of scissors, and in moments soft layers frame my face and fall to mid back.

The last item she gives me is a pair of conservative heels.

Madalaina hugs me.  “Alright. Time to go face the music.”

A green SUV is idling in front of the house.
Bastien leans against the driver’s side. His pants are black, and the white button down shirtsleeves are rolled up above the elbow, the dark waves of his hair kiss the collar. His grin is roguish. I’m witnessing the playful Bastien Madalaina spoke of. Madalaina skips down the steps and climbs into the backseat. Bastien takes me by the hand around to the passenger seat.

“You don’t need to open doors for me,” I assure him.

“And waste the chance to hold your hand?”

He keeps my hand for the whole trip. I’ve limited experience with men, but I get things are escalating fast. I like him, and if I had more time I would object to his forwardness, but as it stands, I may be dead in an hour. This could be the last time anyone offers me affection. With a heavy heart, I think of the plans I had. Graduate from college, get a job, and fall head
over heels in love. Eventually, we would marry and have children. I can’t see any of it happening now. Provided the council lets me live, what then? I will need to run and spend the rest of my life in hiding. Bastien’s interest in me will wane. All alone with my Arcana, I can’t imagine any other future.