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Contents ( 38)
  1. Shift
  2. Acknowledgements
  3. One
  4. Two
  5. Three
  6. Four
  7. Five
  8. Six
  9. Seven
  10. Eight
  11. Nine
  12. Ten
  13. Eleven
  14. Twelve
  15. Thirteen
  16. Fourteen
  17. Fifteen
  18. Sixteen
  19. Seventeen
  20. Eighteen
  21. Nineteen
  22. Twenty
  23. Twenty-One
  24. Twenty-Two
  25. Twenty-Three
  26. Twenty-Four
  27. Twenty-Five
  28. Twenty-Six
  29. Twenty-Seven
  30. Twenty-Eight
  31. Twenty-Nine
  32. Thirty
  33. Thirty-One
  34. Thirty-Two
  35. There are only eight breeding female werecats left. And I’m one of them.
  36. The claws are out!
  37. Pride comes before a fall…
  38. “The fight was about to get unbelievably, irreversibly bad”

“You go down the same way you came up,” Brynn said from my left, and if I weren’t skeptical that a thunderbird could have a sense of humor, I’d have said she was almost grinning.

“Yeah, well, I kind of slept through that part. Wanna spell it out for me?” Another glance over the edge made my stomach pitch. “There’s an elevator, right? Or a tunnel with a zillion steps carved into the middle of the mountain. Maybe under a trapdoor in the kitchen?” I’d take a long, dark, insect-ridden tunnel over another thunderbird-powered flight any day.

That time I was sure I saw Brynn stifle a smile. She was laughing at me on the inside. I knew it.

“No elevator. No tunnel. There is only Cade and Coyt.” Brynn slapped a hand on one monstrous triceps of each of the huge cocks who’d stepped up on either side of her.

I almost choked holding back laughter at that thought.

“So, you’re Cade, and you’re Coyt?” I glanced from one impassive, craggy male face to the other, and when neither answered, I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, I guess.” Then I shot a grin at Brynn. “Those are some big…birds you have there.”

She frowned. So much for that sense of humor. But before Brynn could reply—or I could form a sincere-sounding apology—light, scratchy footsteps echoed from inside, and a small figure raced through the open doorway on mostly avian legs.

It was the little diaper-clad girl from the nursery, long brown hair now falling down her back. “Mama, catch me!” she shouted gleefully, and her arms Shifted rapidly into a diminutive pair of wings. She flapped furiously, and managed to put nearly a foot between her tiny feet and the ground before she started to sink. Brynn’s eyes widened in alarm. Her arms shot out and she snatched the child from the air before she got near the edge of the porch, then settled her on one hip, unfazed when the small wings reformed into human arms.

Brynn was a mother! And suddenly I saw her in a completely different light.

“Listen…” I let go of the post—risking my fear that either Cade or Coyt would shove me off the porch—and turned to fully face Brynn. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but I am going to get your proof and help you avenge Finn. And I will be back for Kaci. But I need to know she’s safe here until I get back. You can understand that, right?” I smiled pointedly at the girl on her hip and resisted the urge to touch the smooth skin of her now human—and chubby—cheek. Even human mothers were testy about stuff like that.

“You’re the kitten’s mother?” Brynn asked, obviously surprised.

“No.” Damn, how old did she think I was? “Her mother’s…dead. I’m all she has right now. Is she safe here? With you?”

Brynn hesitated, then nodded, rocking her daughter gently on one hip. The child’s beak became a mouth and she stuck one thumb into it. “Of course. We wish the girl no harm. But if you fail, we will stand by our word.”