Brian did.

  “I met Agent Genii, Brian,” Derek said. “She seems competent.”

  “Oh, she is!” Mackenzie said, beaming. “She’s our best medic.” Her radio sounded and lingo Brian didn’t recognize sputtered out. She held it up and said a few code words back.

  “We can offer three vans, capable of carrying six wolves each. Will that be enough?”

  Supremely touched and grateful, Brian felt his chest constrict, and Derek’s grip on his arm tightened.

  “Yes.” His voice was a croak. “That will be fine.”

  Mackenzie’s smile dimmed, and she pressed the clipboard to her chest. “It will be all right, Brian. Derek.” Her voice lost its cheerfulness, becoming simply soft and sincere. “We’ll help as much as we can. Whatever you need.”

  Brian took careful breaths before voicing something he’d managed to shove aside until now. “That bracelet he put on me. It was made of iron. Jin told me but I don’t understand… And Gregor said something about fae descent.”

  Mackenzie nodded. “Most humans, if not all, are descended from a humanoid race that interbred with early homo sapiens. It’s a recessive gene in most of the population but for those like you and me and Pan and Jin, the gene is dominant so we have manifested abilities. Unfortunately, that means we’re allergic to pure iron, the same way shifters are allergic to silver. You’ll feel normal in a few days, just get lots of rest and plenty of fluids.”

  Brian blew out a breath. “I never knew where it came from.”

  Derek slipped his arm across Brian’s shoulders and squeezed.

  “Thank you.”

  Mackenzie nodded before becoming all business again and bouncing off, spouting orders into her radio.

  “This is too much.” Brian laid his head back on the table.

  “That’s what I was thinking,” Derek said, stroking his air, soothing him.

  They were silent for a time before Brian gathered his courage and lifted his head. He met Derek’s eyes.

  “Are you going to go after them?”

  He knew Derek understood. He waited, holding his breath.

  “No.” It was said grudgingly.

  Brian gaped. “No? Seriously?”

  Derek grumbled, his eyes bright. His skin rippled slightly but was quickly controlled.

  “It comes down to price, doesn’t it?”

  Brian frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “The price of war.” Derek leaned forward and kissed Brian. “If I fight, you’ll fight. I won’t lose you, Brian. I already lost five of my cousins and my mother’s sister. I’m sure I’ll get my chance, one day down the line.”

  Relieved, Brian hugged Derek, kissing him deeper this time. The kiss lasted until they both heard someone entering the room. Breaking apart, Warda approached them, hollow-eyed and pale. Derek immediately stood and wrapped an arm around his mother’s back. She leaned into him, staring right at Brian.

  “The pack is here, Brian. We’ll stay and you two will wed.”

  A shocked silence fell.

  “Mom—” Derek said.

  “I don’t think that’s a good—” Brian said. Had it really been only days since he’d proposed?

  “I want this.” Warda raised her voice, cutting them both off. She looked at Derek, eyes bleak. “We need this. Happiness, a celebration of life. It will happen.”

  Warda held out her hand, and Brian gripped it. “You are ours, Brian. You saved so many of us. Now it will be legal.”

  Brian’s eyes burned, and his vision blurred. He stood and the three of them hugged.

  “I love you, Mom,” Brian said softly.

  Warda nuzzled his neck, the sounds coming from her throat ones he’d heard Derek make when pleased.

  Brian sent comforting thoughts to Derek and Derek’s arm tightened around him. He glanced over at Derek’s face to find him smiling. That smile gave him hope. They would be all right if they just kept moving forward.

  Epilogue

  Jin drove and Pan sat in the passenger seat. Tommy was fast asleep in the back, his mouth open, snoring lightly.

  “The kid’s zonked,” Pan said.

  Jin made a sound of agreement.

  “He did good, you know. The kid. Derek and Brian. They did damn good. Too bad the Agency didn’t find Brian when his ability manifested. I think he’d have been a good agent.”

  Jin didn’t comment, and Pan didn’t expect him to. Jin spoke when he wanted to and was silent the rest of the time. He’d never been one to humor another who simply talked in lieu of anything else to do.

  Pan called Captain Odin directly and put the phone on speaker.

  “Status,” their captain said.

  Though he would also have to write up a detailed report, Pan succinctly informed Odin of the events and waited for their next orders.

  “You’re returning the boy to his home?” Odin asked.

  “Yep, on the road now.”

  “Once you’re there, get eyes on that scroll, Pan. Gregor will find his way to it eventually. We can’t underestimate him.”

  Pan fingered his throat. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

  “I’ll speak with Chief Hera, but I can tell you, I’m sure she’ll demand the scroll be taken into Agency custody.”

  Pan shared a look with Jin.

  “I can promise you, Captain, the shifters will object strongly to that. They’ve been guarding them for thousands of years.”

  “And they fucked it up.”

  “Only in the last couple of centuries,” Pan said, his tone informative instead of argumentative. He dearly did not want to anger his captain, even over the phone. Odin was… intimidating.

  “But until recently? They’ve kept it out of enemy hands,” Pan said.

  “We need to deal with the now, Pan. Do you understand?”

  Pan didn’t allow himself a sigh. “Yes, sir.”

  “Keep the shifters safe.”

  Some might have thought it an afterthought on Odin’s part, but Pan knew differently. Everyone at the Agency did what they did to protect shifters. That was their main motivation. It was certainly Pan’s. Keeping the scrolls safe would accomplish that safety, but he’d have to convince shifters of his way of thinking. He was certain they would be extremely possessive over the scrolls, considering their history and legacy.

  “We will,” Pan said. “Captain, could you have Lila meet us at Portland? I could do without all these injuries. I won’t be much use beat up.”

  “Were you of much use before?”

  Pan scowled at the phone as Jin chuckled.

  “Very funny, Odin.”

  He knew his captain was smiling. Odin’s sense of humor often caught him—and others—off guard. It could come out of nowhere and be amazingly playful. It was strange coming from a man who was often stoic.

  “I’ll talk to Captain Hecate. I’m sure she’ll clear it. Contact Lila directly when you arrive.”

  “Will do.”

  They hung up, and Pan leaned back heavily in his seat, taking careful breaths. His body was one throbbing bruise.

  It was a considerable while before Jin spoke. “You went toe-to-toe with Gregor.”

  “Yep.”

  “I wish I could have seen that.”

  Pan smiled. “You created one hell of a storm.”

  “Yep.”

  “Damn good form.” Pan lifted his fist, and Jin bumped his own against it. “Looks like we get a short break, then back in it.”

  “No place I’d rather be,” Jin said.

  Pan looked over, and their gazes met. He grinned at his friend and partner of five years.

  “Fuck yes.”

  “What now, Commander?” Lindsay asked as she sped down the road.

  Gregor sat in the passenger seat, angry and pensive. Scenery blurred by as his sense of failure weighed him down like stones. All of it had gone to hell. All of his planning, all of his scheming, and intelligence gathering… and it was all gone. It was all so useless. The scroll was gone, the kid was gone. Abominations were still alive. What now?

  Fuck, his nose hurt. His arm throbbed.

  At least he’d removed the damn tracer from Brian’s vehicle. The agents would have looked it over, and he wasn’t going to let anything of the Knights of the Dawn fall into their hands.

  “Commander?” Lindsay said, her tone fearful.

  Gregor’s hands clenched. He had no option but to pursue. Arcas would expect nothing less than success, and he needed that scroll if there was any hope of completing Arcas’s plan of purity. Arcas trusted him, and Gregor would not disappoint.

  Gregor turned to stare out of the windshield. When he spoke his voice was granite. “Now we take no prisoners. Send messages to all units. High alert. Give them the descriptions of Tommy and the girl with him, and send them pictures of Pan and Jin. They won’t get far.”

  ###

  Want To Continue the Series?

  Read on to check out Feather and Scroll

  Available Now!

  Agent Pan has spent most of his adult life protecting shapeshifters from the Knights—an organization bent on their annihilation—and keeping the secret war in the shadows where it belongs. But the Knights are growing bolder, and a new threat has resurfaced after being buried in the ocean for centuries.

  An ancient scroll, a key to a devastating weapon, is now in the hands of a recalcitrant Russian hawk shifter named Viktor. As a bird shifter, he knows his duty is to protect the scroll, but he wants nothing to do with the war. He leads a quiet life and wants to keep it that way. But when agents come knocking on his door, he finds it difficult to resist the charms of Agent Pan, especially since this isn’t their first meeting.

  Three years earlier they spent a passionate weekend together, neither aware of the other’s true identity. Viktor never really got over Pan. Now with sexual tension at its peak, they must learn to trust each other and work as a team to protect not only their loved ones, but every shifter in the world.

  Second Edition with revised text.

  Feather and Scroll excerpt

  Viktor picked up his cell for the hundredth time and put it down for the hundredth time. Where was she? Worry knotted his gut, but he didn’t want to be a nag. Besides, he had only himself to blame for Natasha running off with Tommy. He didn’t have anything horrible to say about the kid other than his attitude at times. He liked Tommy—he really did. But he never approved of them together. He admitted his biggest problem came from the fact Tommy was a wolf shifter. He wasn’t biased toward other shifters—far from it! But others were. Many others were loud proponents of “pure” matings: wolf with wolf, hawk with hawk, etc. Some made their opinions known with extreme violence—more so these days than in the past.

  Yes, he’d taken Tommy in, fed him, and clothed him. It was the decent thing to do. The poor kid had obviously been through hell, and Viktor was in a position to do something about it. But then Natasha began to hang around Tommy, and something seemed to click between them. But he worried. Tommy obviously had a past, and Viktor didn’t want anything to bring his sister to harm. She could be flighty and impulsive sometimes. He loved his sister to death and knew himself to be overprotective, but what could he do? There was a fifteen-year age gap between them, and with both parents gone, he had to make sure she grew up to be a dignified hawk shifter.

  He wondered if he would survive the stress of being a parent to his little sister.

  Viktor picked up his cell again. Scowling deeply, he slammed it back down on the kitchen counter and stood. He paced the first floor of the cozy house and knew he should have opened his antique shop an hour earlier, but how could he concentrate when Natasha could be who the hell knew where? What had Tommy dragged her into?

  Viktor stopped pacing and ran his fingers roughly through his dark hair. Had they really run away? Run to Vegas and married? His stomach pitched. Oh Phoenix, please, anything but that!

  Why did he have to nag her so? He swore to himself that when—please Phoenix, when—she came home, he would make a stringent effort to accept their relationship. It was obvious how much they loved each other. He once hoped it was just a passing fancy, but in his gut, he always knew better. He needed to look beneficently on their relationship, or he would lose his sister. Tommy wasn’t bad, but he was trouble. Though, Viktor admitted, his sister had found enough trouble on her own before Tommy came into the picture.

  Viktor scowled again, berating himself. It was his fucking fault for arguing with her right before he traveled to New York… then leaving them alone for a week. Damn conference! He came home to find her gone, with a voicemail on his home phone from the local high school asking about the teens. He called the school and claimed a family emergency had taken them away, and could the school be understanding and send by the needed homework? He avoided scheduling makeup exams until he was certain Natasha and Tommy were coming home.

  He should call her. But would she even answer?

  The sound of a key turning in the lock of the front door had Viktor spinning around. He rushed out of the kitchen and stopped short in the living room as the door opened. His eyes widened as Natasha walked in. She looked tired, strained, and like she obviously hadn’t slept recently, but she was blessedly unharmed. She carried a backpack slung over one shoulder, and only after shutting the door and locking it again did she look at him. Her sharp eyes held uncertainty.

  Viktor’s breath caught at the sight of her. Relief flooded through him, making him weak.

  “Natasha.”

  “Viktor. I—”

  He swept her up in a hug—easily accomplished since she was a petite 115 when wet, and he was a giant at 6’5”—and nearly crushed her.

  “Natasha, I am so sorry. I am so glad you are home!” His Russian accent thickened from the emotions overwhelming him.

  It thrilled him when she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and held on. They argued more often than not, and foul words were said in spite, but at the end of the day, they loved each other. It was good they both remembered that.

  “Please do not run out like that again,” he said softly against her ear. “I am so worried.” Then he spoke in a long spat of Russian, his heart thudding in his ears.

  “I won’t. I’m sorry. I won’t.” Natasha pressed her face into his chest. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

  Viktor stroked her hair. It wasn’t uncommon for people to be skeptical when told they were brother and sister. They didn’t look much alike. They were both pale, but Viktor had black hair and pale blue eyes while Natasha’s hair was a rusty bronze and her eyes were hazel. Viktor had spent most of his life in Russia and still retained the accent, but Natasha had never set foot in the motherland and sounded firmly American.

  Their parents were young when they met. Their father, a native Russian, visited America and became enraptured by their mother. As with most infatuations, it didn’t last, but their mother was already pregnant with Viktor. They married and moved to Russia. Then they moved to the US when Viktor was fourteen. Natasha was conceived by accident, and by then, their parents were firmly out of love with each other. Instead of divorcing, they simply separated. Viktor returned to Russia with their father, and Natasha was raised alone by their mother. During those years, Viktor only saw Natasha in photos and Skype sessions. He finally reunited with her in person five years ago when he moved permanently back to the States after their mother died in a vehicular accident. Their father had already died from a heart attack a couple years before that.

  They both still chafed at the setup, but Natasha was only seventeen, and Viktor was determined to do right by her. When she turned eighteen, she would be free of his control, for good or ill.

  “I am sorry for what I say to you,” Viktor said. “And for what I say about Tommy. I will not say such things again.”

  “I called you some things too,” Natasha said. “For that I’m sorry.”

  Viktor smiled. “We both have tempers, da?”

  “Da.” Natasha pulled back and smiled. But then Viktor felt something. He frowned and looked around before realizing the strange pulsing sensation was coming from Natasha’s bag. He stared at it for a moment before gazing at Natasha. Natasha saw where his attention had drifted, and her eyes widened.

  Viktor narrowed his eyes. He didn’t need to say a word.

  “I… I—” Natasha said, stumbling. “There was a reason Tommy and I left.”

  “And Tommy? Where is he?” He mentally kicked himself for not inquiring sooner. Worry, so lately relieved, bloomed forth again.

  Natasha took a deep breath. “Don’t get pissed, okay?”

  Viktor crossed his arms over his chest. “Speak.”

  Natasha huffed out a breath. “Don’t get all Russian on me.”

  Viktor grunted, glaring. His inner hawk ruffled his feathers and clicked his beak in irritation. Neither he nor his hawk appreciated her challenge to his authority. It was impossible to balance being her superior and her friend. He got a sinking feeling in his stomach his sister had done something horribly stupid and/or dangerous.

  “Do you remember those legends you told me once? That night, a couple years back, when I was sick? You told me about bird guardians and magical scrolls….”

  The sinking feeling became a cramp. “What of them?”

  “Well….” Natasha opened her bag and pulled out a long, thin tube. It was evident the tube was the origin of the pulsing.

  Viktor gasped and backed away, heart pounding. “Natasha! What did you do?”

  Tommy called dibs on the bathroom after Pan emerged from it. It was a small hotel room, but they wouldn’t be staying long. The clerk had leered at them, but Pan gave him enough money to keep his mouth shut. Pan limped over to where Jin stood, wondering when Lila would arrive. They were finally in Portland, Oregon, and after Lila healed him, they would go find Tommy’s girlfriend, and hopefully the damn scroll.

 

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