Green shadow, p.11
Green Shadow, page 11
The ragged threads of the mate bond twinged in my chest, and I rubbed the spot, ignoring the look of concern Quinn threw at me.
I hopped into my seat at the front of the cart. Every day we were apart, each moment without reciprocation caused another thread to fray and eventually snap. Each time a thread broke, it sent a shockwave of pain through me. It was only pain at the moment, but that wouldn’t last. Eventually, my strength would wane as the bond demanded more energy to exist, until I had nothing left to give, and I would die.
Quinn stared at me intently for a moment, then rolling his eyes, he punched my shoulder hard enough that I started to rub that spot instead.
Frowning, I growled, “Was that really called for?”
“Redirected pain is a proven method of coping,” he answered, then turned back to directing the horses.
I scowled, but my dragon was pleased with the gryphon’s care. Although, I had to admit, having someone I almost considered a friend watching my back left a pleasant warmth in my chest.
Saber emerged from an alley further down the block. Getting down, I helped him load his own captive into the back with the others.
There is an interesting scent in the wind. I want to see where it leads. The feline said before taking off in the direction of Market Row. Knowing him, he would show back up to the guild with a belly full of food freely given. The animal had a knack for getting people to pamper him as if he were some tame housecat.
We headed up the inner stairs to the guild an hour later to debrief Curtis. Our bounty was already secured in the loving hands of Frank, the guardian of Catch and Release’s holding cells.
Foot hovering over a step, the mate bond gave a particularly forceful twinge. I winced, clutching my chest. Damn, not again.
Quinn’s eyes narrowed in concern, and this time, he chose not to ignore it. “It’s getting worse.”
“We knew it would.” I rasped. Painfully aware of the state of my disintegrating bond, I didn’t want to hash it out with him again.
The gryphon snarled and slapped a hand down on the banister. “There’s been no information since Grace and Keenan told us about the Los Magica incident. She’s a ghost.”
About a month ago, Grace and Keenan, Quinn and Alec’s foundlings, had knocked on the pair’s door. Orphans, the children, had been prisoners of the Los Magica gang and were slated to be sold to a vampire who enjoyed drinking the blood of innocents.
Joy had shot through my dragon during their account. He was beyond pleased that she was still fighting to be the woman he admired. It also left an impression on me. That she hadn’t given in and was still fighting to be a good person, melted some of the pain I carried about her past.
Quinn and I raced to Noxus, but we’d arrived weeks after the incident. The trail was cold, and only a vague whisper of Terra’s return murmured on the streets.
My dragon raged when he realized she wasn’t there. Any leads had gone cold. He raked at my mind, and I could feel my eyes go hot as he rose to the surface. Red began to tinge the edges of my sight, and I knew if I didn’t stop him, I wouldn’t leave Noxus alive.
I blasted the beast with magic, projecting my own frustration along with the pain I felt. Finally, he calmed, the red retreated from my eyes, and I took a deep breath. I’d reasoned with him for now. The Old God only knew if he would stay that way.
Chris waved us into Curtis’s office, breaking me out of my thoughts.
“Excellent work, gentlemen. The Archmage is pleased to have the culprits apprehended so swiftly.” Curtis’s grey eyes twinkled behind his glasses. “Since you finished that hunt in record time,” He teased. “I may have a lead on the murders.”
Quinn and I straightened at the news. The killer had gone to ground after taking his last victim – a wolf shifter who’d mated a cat.
“I’ve tapped some of my ears on the streets, and they tell me this is likely the next target. I want the two of you to assess the couple and introduce yourself. If you deem it necessary, offer protection.” Curtis handed Quinn a piece of paper with the details on it.
Finally, a break in the case. I’m sick and tired of innocent people dying in my city.
“Who are we stalking?” I asked, my excitement bleeding into my tone.
Curtis lifted his copy and glanced at the names. “Monica and Devon Coleman. Monica is an Omni shifter, an eagle. Her mate, Devon, is human.”
“The couple live on Omni Island. Quinn’s been there before and can show you the way.” Not looking forward to my turn taking a vision, I was happy Curtis didn’t have anything extra to share.
“We’ll head out now,” Quinn said, turning for the door. Curtis and I shared a grin at the gryphon’s blunt behavior and I took off after my partner.
“We taking our bikes?” I asked as we headed down the steps.
“Yes. We’ll need the speed.”
I agreed with his assessment, not wanting to get there only to find out we were minutes too late yet again.
“Take the East Bridge, then hang a right. The ferry to the island is about three miles down.” Quinn instructed.
GreenRiver had been a retirement community when the Resurgence hit. Almost all her citizens perished, considering most of the population had depended on some level of medical machinery or medicine for survival. Without them, the place became a ghost town in mere months.
Slowly people reclaimed the area, and when Hubert P. Riverside united the newcomers, he renamed the place after his horse Greenie. None of the few survivors who remembered the original name objected. Welcoming a fresh start.
Hubert P. Riverside was well-liked by his generation and mocked by the following. A simple man, he’d carried that theme into naming the significant landmarks. Hence names such as ‘the River’ and ‘Center Bridge.’ Yet, for all the bitching, no one had ever suggested changing it.
It took us nearly forty-five minutes to navigate traffic and reach the ferry. Dusk was settling on the horizon by the time we got to the dock, and luck was on our side. The ferry had just landed and was in the process of offloading its people and cargo.
Flashing his guild badge, Quinn nudged me to do the same. I didn’t like abusing my status, and I wouldn’t have cut ahead if someone’s life weren’t on the line. Thankfully, Quinn had a similar moral compass.
Leaning on the edge of the rail, I took a moment to type out a check-in message to the family. I noticed that beside me, Quinn was doing the same, with a tender look that only surfaced when he was talking with his mate.
Messages sent. I shook my head, flabbergasted at how my life had changed in such a short time.
Monica and Devon lived in a two-story house a few blocks from the ferry. Splitting up, we circled the property, looking for signs that the assassin had beaten us there. Once we finished our search, we met up at the front.
“I didn’t see anything,” I looked around again in case I missed something.
“What about feel? Did you pick up any emotional resonances?” Quinn’s eyes intently studied the home.
“Using my passive ability isn’t instinctive,” I mumbled. My face heating. “The training master informed me repeatedly during my lessons that it was invasive. Mackenzie alluded to the same thing.” The flush crept higher, and I felt like I had failed some test. “I haven’t figured out a happy medium with it yet.”
Quinn nodded. “I agree that it can invade a person’s privacy.”
Relief washed through me at his words.
“You need to decide when using your empathic senses is needed. Then, train yourself to automatically reach for it at those times.” He shrugged his shoulders. “If it was me, and my life or that of an innocent was in the balance, I’d use every weapon at my disposal.”
I clenched my fists. Damn, Quinn’s right. Digging down deep and thrusting my pride aside, I asked. “How do you deal with it? Using your powers and not having people hate you for invading their privacy.”
Quinn shrugged. “I’m a gryphon. People know as soon as they see my eyes what I can do. They may not know how powerful I am or how my magic sees the truth, but they know I can. The key is to allow people to forget.” Laying a hand on my shoulder in comradery, he finished. “If I don’t advertise what I see, most will delude themselves into thinking I’m not using my power against them. I imagine it’s the same with your gift. So keep it to yourself if you sense an emotion that isn’t your business.”
Sage advice. “Thank you for the advice.”
Quinn’s mouth twitched. “Well?” he drawled, impatience leaking into his tone.
Loosening the stranglehold I had on my magic, I let it flow from me in a wave. If I wanted, I could focus it in one direction, but since I didn’t know where the danger lay, I decided a three-sixty check was in order.
My empathy worked akin to sonar. First, it would send out waves of power. Then, it relayed any emotions back to me. Once I got a hit, I had the choice of siphoning that emotion or leaving it alone. The process happened quickly, but there was always a slight delay in receiving the feedback.
The first hit I got was from Quinn. The asshole didn’t even try to hide from me. Not that he was feeling anything I wouldn’t have expected – except for one faint emotion. The bastard trusted me. Taking his advice, I kept that information to myself.
My range was massive, and scanning the entire block didn’t begin to strain my gift. Two separate pings came from inside the house where Devon and Monica lived. Both contained love, but one also had a colder emotion: resentment.
Pushing aside the people who weren’t relevant, I searched more. Then, about to tell Quinn that the area was clear, I got a set of emotions that spelled trouble. Icy calm, resolve, and a complex group of entangled emotions that I’d always attributed with professionalism.
“I have something.” Narrowing my focus, I used my power to pinpoint where our target was hiding. I made sure to leave the emotions alone, not wanting to alert the enemy to the fact we’d spotted them.
“He’s closing in. We don’t have much time.”
Chapter 13
Lucan
Quinn didn’t hesitate. Striding forward, he knocked on the door. A young woman with raven hair and golden eyes answered. “Hello?”
A man who was just as lean but over a head taller stepped up behind her. “Who is it, hun?” Tension radiated from the pair.
I watched Quinn’s back as he addressed the couple. “My name is Quinn. I’m from Catch and Release.” He pulled out his badge to confirm his identity. The Council of Guilds made examples of those who forged a guild badge. Once every five years or so, there was a fool who tried to beat the system. They always failed.
The tension eased from the two at the sight of Quinn’s sickle-leaf pendant. Only for their brows to crinkle in confusion.
“We’ve reason to believe that someone might be targeting Monica.” Quinn continued before they could ask.
Devon bristled. “Why would anyone want to target my wife?”
Though most humans who mated shifters called themselves mates, Monica didn’t flinch at the human term. Though a whiff of sadness came through my magic.
The target I’d acquired slowed two houses over and began moving with more care. Keeping my tone low, I updated my partner. “Two houses out and closing.”
“I can’t go into a lot of details.” Quinn’s tone became serious. “But we believe a killer is targeting shifters who’ve mated outside their tribe.”
They both jerked at the announcement. Devon’s hand closed tighter on Monica’s shoulder. While her clasped hands went white-knuckled at her midsection.
“Why me?” Monica asked.
“We don’t know,” I said, tracking the assumed assassin as he came closer. He was high up. “Roof, the one on the left.”
Quinn glanced at me but kept his focus on the couple. “May we come in and discuss it?” Quinn asked.
Rigid, an aura of wariness emanated from the man. Monica did the intelligent thing and opened the door for us. Devon moved to one side to let us pass.
Once settled in the living room, I took over from Quinn while still keeping an emotional eye on the potential threat.
“Monica, Devon, my name is Lucan. I am Quinn’s partner and another hunter with Catch and Release.” Monica nodded, but Devon just crossed his arms. Waiting. “Multiple murders have occurred over the last six months. In each case, other than the deaths appearing natural, the only other commonality is that the victims were in blended mating’s.” Devon uncrossed his arms to squeeze Monica close. “Information has come to our attention that points to you as the next target. Do you know who I am—was?”
Devon frowned, but Monica nodded. “You were the Dragon Protector.” She fidgeted. “I don’t want to tell you the stories going around about why you left your post. Seeing you now, I don’t think they’re true.”
I’d heard all the dribble Jasper had seeded about me. Everything from abandoning my post because he wouldn’t consent to be my puppet, to being fired because Toban caught me abusing children.
“You know then what my power is?”
Monica nodded, then turned to her mate. “Lucan is the strongest empath of our generation in the city.”
The nature of my gift had Devon’s eyes widening and sweat forming on his brow.
My magic inched forward, and it took me a second to reel it back. I barely avoided scanning deeper. Uncovering whatever it was, he wanted to hide. “Before we introduced ourselves, I felt around the area and locked on to someone with the emotional signature of an assassin.” I tilted my head to the side, ensuring I still had the man encompassed in my power. “They have stopped on the roof of your neighbor’s house, likely waiting for us to leave.”
“Well then,” Monica’s golden eyes gleamed. “Let’s invite them in for tea. It’s the polite thing to do.”
If I was stunned, Devon was floored.
“Honey,” Devon started, running a hand down Monica’s arm. “Let’s call the Alpha. He can send the Beta along to take care of this.”
Monica gave him a long-suffering look, and I sympathized. She was a predator. To wait for someone else to save her was a blow to her pride.
Shifters were drawn to many potential mates during their lifetime. The beast usually signaled a match, but it was up to the human half to make sure personalities fit. It wasn’t much different than regular human attraction. Unless that is, you were powerful. Strong shifters had less choice. Fewer potential mates resonated with their core natures.
Once both pairs accepted the bond, mating was for life. Only if one of the pair died would the other be released to find a new partner. Monica was young. Early twenties. The tension between the two hinted that they might have rushed into the mating. Devon didn’t seem very well informed about his mate or her beast.
“No, if I’m the target, I’ll have the best shot at drawing them out.” Monica looked at me. “You have more experience with this. What do we do?”
I turned to Quinn.
“If you are serious, then Lucan and I will leave. It would help if you threw us out. We will circle around and take up positions in the backyard.” He met her golden eyes with his metallic ones. “Alerting your Alpha is a good idea. If there is fighting, it will draw his attention anyway, and it’s best he doesn’t rush in blind.”
Devon already had the phone in hand and was dialing the number. Monica rolled her eyes and tsked at her husband.
We didn’t have time to hash out a complicated plan. The longer we stayed in the house, the less believable our narrative would be. So, five minutes after we entered, Monica screamed at us to get out of her home. Backing out of the door with both arms raised, Quinn and I beat a hasty retreat.
The assassin’s emotions pinged with contentment. As far as I could tell, they’d bought it. Quinn and I got out of sight, then headed to the backyard. If everything went according to plan, Monica would come storming out precisely two minutes from now after another loud fight with her mate.
Like clockwork, angry voices rose within the dwelling. A whisper of their emotions came through even as I tried not to intrude. Real anger blazed from both parties, along with fear and, in one person, that underlying resentment again.
I debated whether to tell Quinn. Not about the emotions—I was serious about keeping my mouth shut when it didn’t concern me —but Monica’s head might not be in the game, which would get her into trouble.
Before I could utter a word, though, Monica stormed out the backdoor. It was over a minute early. Quinn raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. I guess we were winging it.
She didn’t leave the yard but paced furiously along its grassy expanse. The assassin took the bait and attacked, jumping off the roof and aiming straight for what he assumed was a helpless woman.
Quinn and I reacted simultaneously, but we wouldn’t be fast enough. We’d underestimated the speed of our opponent, thinking they’d relied more on stealth. But we’d underestimated Monica as well. She spun towards her attacker in a practiced move, fingers curled and replaced with talons. Dark wings burst from her back, and she used them to help her balance while dodging and slashing. It bought us enough time to join in.
Monica effortlessly moved in and around us. The assassin’s surprise was only visible to my magic. Outside, he was calm, as if he’d considered every possibility.
“You shouldn’t have interfered.” His voice came out a husky rasp. “If she hadn’t been forewarned, I could have made it quick.” The attacker was male, his face shrouded except for pitch-black eyes. Lines of darkness emanated from the man, pulling off into shadowy wisps that wrapped themselves around him, making the guy damn hard to hit.
“You shouldn’t have killed shifters in my city.” I sent out a blast of my magic, fueled with the worst agony I could muster.
My magic registered the moment it hit him. Expecting him to drop, I froze, shocked when he shrugged it off like it was nothing. Didn’t even bat an eye. He just barreled through the pain.
By the Old God. What is this guy made of?
