Embraced By Darkness

He'd be easy to track once I got back onto land. The scent of his blood would leave a lovely trail for the keen nose of a wolf to follow.

The two men argued on the top of the cliff for several minutes. I floated on the waves, paddling for all I was worth against the current to remain where I was. It was more tiring than I thought it would be, but maybe that was a combination of the short seagull legs and overall weariness from all the running I'd been doing up until the fall.

Yohan glanced at his watch, but neither of them moved, just stayed there watching the ocean, either waiting for signs of life or confirmation of death.

Exhaustion was creeping over me, and the need to resume one of my regular shapes was growing.

And deep inside, the niggle of concern was beginning. What if I couldn't resume my regular shape? That had been one of the main problems facing the others who'd been shafted into the military—the inability to resume human shape.

But then, they'd apparently gone through multiple shapes, exploring the width and breadth of their new skills, until the cells in their bodies could no longer remember original forms.

I had no intention of being that stupid.

I might explore this new ability, but it would be under controlled conditions, with Rhoan by my side.

Though the form of a red-winged gull was not exactly an enticing one. Why a damn gull? Why couldn't I have chosen something more exotic? Sexy? Dangerous, even? Like a hawk, or an eagle. Hell, even a cockatoo had more appeal than a damn seagull.

Still, the wings of this gull had saved my life. And maybe, just maybe, it might ease my fear of heights. After all, if I learned to fly, I'd never again have to worry about getting pushed off a cliff.

The two men finally moved away. I waited for another five minutes, watching the cliff top, searching for any sign that they were merely in hiding rather than having left, but there was nothing.

I paddled sideways across the waves, riding the surges and letting the current pull me ever so slowly toward the cliff base. To the right of where I'd fallen, the steepness of the cliff eased and the rocks weren't as fierce looking, I paddled closer and let a wave surge drop me on the top of one. My webbed red feet gripped the wet stone securely, and I waddled away from the waves, shaking my body and fluffing my feathers to get rid of some of the water.

Once I was far enough away from the foamy fingers of water, I took a deep breath, then reached down, deep down inside, to where the shapeshifting magic resided, and called for my human shape.

For a moment, there was no response, and panic surged. I closed my eyes, fighting for calm, picturing my human shape in my mind, remembering my body shape, my scars. The funny shape of my toes.

My skin began to tingle, then the shapeshifting magic surged, sweeping across my body, remolding flesh and muscle and bone, until what was sitting on the rock was once again human.

A human shaking with relief and fear.

I hugged my knees close to my chest. Every inch of my body trembled, my chest felt tight, and my wounded leg felt like jelly. But I was alive, I was whole, and I was human again. I sucked in great gulps of air, and tried not to think about what I would have done if my body hadn't responded, if the part of my soul that made the shifting so easy had suddenly forgotten the patterns of my humanity.

It was a good five minutes before the shaking stopped enough for me to concentrate on what I had to do rather than what might have been. What still could be if I wasn't very careful.

I rose and looked up, studying the cliffs. God, it was a long fall. My stomach rose, and my body began to shake. I gulped down air, fighting the rise of terror. I was here, I was alive, and I had a brother to save. There was no time for fear or panic right now.

Thinking about Rhoan helped. As the panic began to ease, I switched my gaze to the lower regions of the cliff, looking for some way up. There wasn't even a track a goat could climb.

Not that I was intending to become a goat anytime soon.

I shifted, my gaze following the cliff top, seeing the gradual fall before the island dipped around to the right and disappeared from sight. Hopefully, there was a bay or something around that corner.

I made my way forward, leaping from rock to rock, carefully picking my way through the sharp rocks and shells but cutting my feet nevertheless. I ignored the wounds, trusting the sea would wash away any blood I left behind.

Right now, I just needed to get to solid ground, away from the cliffs and the sea.

When I finally rounded the corner, and saw that the cliff tops did indeed sweep down into a shallow sandy bay, relief flooded me. I jumped into the sea and paddled toward the shore. I wasn't the world's greatest swimmer, but I think I would have broken world records right then. I dragged myself up onto the sandy beach, then on into the trees. There I threw my hands wide and dropped down onto the ground.

Land. Solid and real. Not sand, not sea, not rocks. Land.

I would have hugged it if I could.

After wasting several seconds simply enjoying the solidness under my body, I rose to my knees and shifted to my wolf shape. I needed her nose to hunt my quarry, and to do that, I needed to go back to the cliff top. Just the thought of it had my knees shaking.

But there was no other choice. While freeing Rhoan was a priority, getting the bomb control was even more so. Until that was destroyed, there was no point in pulling Rhoan out of his cell. And I doubted the twins would be hunting him today, given the injuries I'd inflicted on Jorn.

I turned and padded through the trees, my limp not quite as bad in my wolf form, I followed the coastline, keeping well away from the cliff edges as the land began to rise again.

Finding the area where I'd gone over wasn't hard. Footprints marred the sandy soil and the undergrowth where I'd fallen and they'd stood was all broken and flattened. The scent of Jorn's blood lingered on the air, a sweet aroma that stirred the hunter to life. I nosed around the ground until I caught a slightly sour, foresty scent. Yohan, undoubtedly. At least if I lost Jorn's trail, I might be able to follow Yohan's.

Nose to ground, I made my way through the trees, slipping easily through the underbrush, avoiding the sunlight so that my red coat wouldn't gleam, melding with the deeper shadows of the forest. Hopefully making it harder for anyone to spot me.

Not that I thought they'd be looking for me, but I'd learned a long time ago never to underestimate the bad guys. They just didn't think in the same linear patterns as sane people.

Jorn's scent sharpened abruptly. I stopped, sniffing the wind, tasting the flavors that ran underneath it. He was still bleeding heavily, the blood smell thick and rich on the air. Twined around it was the reek of sweat and the musk of man.

He was close. I twitched my ears, trying to hear him. His scent was coming from my left, but given the way the wind swirled through the undergrowth, I wasn't relying on it to give me position.

If he was making any noise, I couldn't hear it—and as a wolf my hearing was pretty keen. So he was either unconscious, sitting quietly, or it was a trap.

I laid on my belly and crawled forward. It wasn't exactly easy, given the undergrowth and the fact my wolf form was designed more to run than creep.

I ducked my nose through some thick greenery and discovered a small clearing. Jorn sat on a log on the far side, leaning back against a tree trunk. Blood caked his left arm and leg, his shirt was caked with sweat, and there was a decided look of pain on his face.

Couldn't say I was sorry about that.

Though his eyes were closed, I doubted he was unconscious. The pain, the way in which he sat, the tension in his clenched hands—it all spoke of awareness.

I looked beyond him, my nose raised slightly, tasting the air for Yohan's sour scent. It lingered—a memory more than a reality. He'd definitely been here, but not recently.

Which gave me my chance at Jorn.

Despite the rush of eagerness that had my toes twitching, I didn't move. The clearing might be a small one, but there was still open space between me and him, and he had his rifle within easy reach. I wasn't about to bet my speed against his, even if I should be faster. Not when there were silver bullets involved.

Which meant I had to try and provide a distraction, and hopefully give myself extra time to attack before he