Fated

  'Every mouthful of Shapeshifter blood has a different taste,' Joshua said now, his eyes dilating so much his irises were black moons and Lucas was able to make out tiny red eruptions in the white of his eye. 'You ever see Willy Wonka? You know that part where the girl eats an everlasting gobstopper and it tastes of everything? Like chicken soup and roast beef and blueberry pie all rolled into one? Well, that's exactly what Shapeshifter's blood tastes like - you get rabbit for starter, or maybe some sushi, then you get yourself some nice succulent pork belly for main. If you're really lucky you get some big cat steak, maybe a proper hot dog, then, to finish, always a bird. Funniest thing. Best you can hope for is swan. Finest damn meal I ever ate.' He smacked his lips together again.

  'You're disgusting,' Neena spat. She edged backwards and bumped Lucas's shoulder and jumped. Her shimmer momentarily blinded him before she settled back.

  'Oh, ignore Joshua,' Shula said from across the room. 'He's just an ignorant little hillbilly. The only thing he's ever eaten is squirrel. And the occasional human.'

  Joshua swung around to face her. 'If you didn't have skin so disgusting it would be like biting through a crocodile's ass, I'd have tasted your blood by now too.'

  Shula was sitting with her legs up on the desk in front of her. 'Oh yeah? You think? You think you could get anywhere near me?' Shula kicked the desk. 'No wonder the humans don't want you in their world. Frankly, Joshua, who the hell would?'

  Joshua's face contorted as though the sun was shining right on him. He flew at Shula with his teeth bared. Only the sight of Tristan, who'd suddenly appeared in the middle of the room, pulled him up short. Joshua froze mid-pounce, his teeth retracting instantly and his eyes flashing in fear towards the man in the suit standing next to him.

  Lucas smiled inwardly. If he hadn't seen Neena shift right there in front of him he wouldn't have believed it was her. Gone was the short girl with frizzy brown hair and a smattering of freckles and in her place stood Tristan. And she had him down perfectly, from the polished brogues to the inch of white shirt cuff and black crystal cufflinks. Even the lip-curling sneer and the waxed centre part of his eyebrows were just this side of perfect. He glanced down at Tristan's arms. The only thing that was off was the symmetry. Shifters were always mirror images - never quite the real deal - but it took the brain a while to figure out what was off about the picture. It was Tristan's right arm that was damaged - he could no longer bend it at the elbow - but the Tristan in front of him was holding his left arm awkwardly.

  'Enough! Remember the rules,' Neena said, except her voice was Tristan's voice - silky-smooth, with razor blades hidden in the seams. It was uncanny hearing it. Lucas felt his own back stiffen.

  'I want explanations,' Neena shouted. 'I want to know who it was that let the girl go.'

  She turned to face Shula, who swallowed hard in response and let the arm of her robe slip down another inch, revealing her bandage and a large scoop of cleavage.

  'Was it you, Shula?' Neena demanded.

  Shula shook her head. 'No. No, I didn't do anything. I got shot.' She pushed her bandaged arm towards Neena. 'A Hunter showed up. It wasn't our fault.'

  Neena took a step towards her, the leather of her shoes creaking on the wooden floorboards. 'You think that excuses are going to wash with me, Shula? This is the Brotherhood,' she barked. 'Failure is not an option. Now, drop to the floor and give me fifty.'

  Shula froze, her eyes widened and then narrowed to points. 'Neena?' she said. She took a step towards Tristan. 'Neena, is that you?'

  The shape before her began to shimmer like a hummingbird. Briefly Neena appeared, her freckled face grinning, before morphing back into Tristan.

  'I'm going to kill you!' Shula screamed.

  Neena shifted so fast that the others caught only the sight of a small, brown, feathered creature flying past Shula's outstretched hands. Neena landed on the windowsill and tweeted victoriously.

  Lucas watched her and allowed himself a small smile.

  'Come here, little bird, come here,' Shula cooed, reaching out her hands.

  The bird flapped its wings and took off towards Lucas. He felt the air tingle next to him and something brush his arm. He turned his head and found himself staring at a stranger - a twenty-something-year-old man, tall, with dark hair and grey eyes and a sullen stare. He looked suddenly familiar. Then he laughed under his breath. Neena laughed too, lifting an arm and running it through her hair - pushing it back off her forehead. He became aware that he was doing the same. Neena was mirroring him.

  'Very funny,' Lucas murmured.

  Neena raised an eyebrow.

  Lucas frowned at himself. Was that really how he looked to others?

  'You gotta scowl, Neena, if you want to be more convincing as Lucas,' Shula said, apparently no longer trying to kill her.

  'Yeah, you gotta be all too cool for school and strut around in the shadows looking all moody and everything,' Joshua sneered.

  Lucas lazily moved his head so he could look at Joshua. He chewed the inside of his lip while he wondered who in all the realms had ever thought that recruiting Thirsters to the Brotherhood was a good idea.

  'You been studying Lucas's moves, Joshua? Maybe you should have stuck to the shadows too - then you wouldn't look like the mechanically reclaimed meat patty you do right now.' Shula laughed.

  There were snorts of derision, broken by the soft sound of Grace's voice.

  'He's coming,' she said quietly, her eyes flying open.

  5

  Joshua sniffed hard. 'It's Tristan,' he said.

  Lucas wondered who else he thought it might be. Tristan was the only other person in the building apart from them. Humans couldn't get inside the old Mission. There was a huge security gate at the top of the road down to it with an Enter at own risk: Trespassers will be shot sign stuck on it. Which always made Lucas laugh, as it so baldly undersold the treatment.

  What it really should say, he thought, was something like: Enter at own risk: Trespassers may be shot, drunk, eaten, poisoned, sliced or attacked by a wild animal. The psychic will tell you which.

  Beside him Neena shifted back to herself. Lucas cast a look at Caleb, who'd slunk into the corner. He was wearing sunglasses, held together with some electrical tape where they'd cracked across the bridge. It was hard to tell what he was thinking but his tail had stopped flickering. He'd been silent all this time but that was his usual state of being: silence, flickering and the occasional bout of snarling.

  Tristan opened the door - the real Tristan this time. He was dressed exactly how Neena had portrayed him - in a charcoal grey suit with a white shirt and grey tie that matched his hair. His eyes swept the room. He walked to the front, his bad arm held stiffly at his side, and stood there looking the six of them over, taking in their various states of disarray and burnt flesh. Lucas could hear Shula fidgeting, Caleb's tail rubbing against the wall and Joshua's nasal breathing. At his side, he could sense Neena shimmering lightly.

  Finally, Tristan opened his mouth. 'Who is going to explain to me why she's still alive?'

  The razor blades were out.

  There was an answering silence. No one moved and no one breathed. Everyone waited for somebody else to answer.

  'There was a Hunter. He surprised us.' Shula spoke up eventually, her voice wavering.

  Tristan turned on her. 'Your job is to kill Hunters. Not to be surprised by them.'

  He rounded on Grace. 'How did you not see him, Grace? You told us we had a window of opportunity.'

  'He slipped through.' She shrugged, the only one of them who didn't appear fazed by Tristan's mood. 'You know how it works. My visions are sometimes hazy.'

  Tristan narrowed his eyes at her. 'There were six of you and only two of them. One an untrained human girl. What happened?' Tristan surveyed the room, looking for an answer.

  Lucas resisted the urge to melt into the shadows. Instead he stood straight-backed against the wall, his face impassive, waiting for the rage to abate. Tristan u
sually went for shock and awe tactics.

  'I asked what happened,' Tristan shouted again.

  'Caleb. Caleb happened,' Shula answered, checking over her shoulder that Caleb and his tail were out of range and under control. Caleb glared at her from across the room, his tail swishing in an arc.

  Tristan ignored them both and turned to Lucas instead. 'I want details. Lucas?'

  Lucas held his gaze. 'The girl put up a fight.'

  A deep furrow appeared between Tristan's eyebrows. 'She's not trained.'

  Lucas kept his voice low in response to Tristan's raised one. 'She can handle herself.'

  Caleb suddenly spoke up, his voice angry and breathless. 'She knocked off my glasses, damn it. They're broken. And not one of you bothered to help me out,' he hissed at the others.

  'Yeah, like I'm going to help you and get sliced to salami in the process,' Shula yelled.

  Tristan interrupted, his voice dropping back to normal. 'Shula, what happened to your arm?'

  'I got shot.'

  'By the girl?'

  'No, by the Hunter. He was there. It was like he knew we were coming. I was just about to kill her when he turned up out of the blue.'

  'Who was it?' Tristan asked, taking a step forward. 'Did you see?'

  'Oh yeah,' Shula nodded.

  'And?' Tristan said. It seemed like he was about to grab Shula by the arms but then suddenly remembered he shouldn't.

  'It was Victor,' Neena cut in.

  Tristan turned his head to look at Neena. 'Victor?'

  'Yes.' She nodded.

  Tristan looked at the rest of them for any sign of disagreement. When no one offered any, he shook his head. 'Still, six of you and only one of them. Truly spectacular.'

  'He shone one of those torch things at me,' Joshua whined.

  Tristan studied him. It looked like he was thinking the same thing that Lucas had been thinking a few minutes before, questioning the worth of having a low-grade Thirster in the Brotherhood. 'I gathered that,' he said eventually. 'Here. Have some of this.'

  He threw a silver Thermos at Joshua, who caught it in the one hand that wasn't fried like a chicken's claw. Lucas watched as Joshua's fangs flew out and his eyes filmed over, becoming glassy. 'Is it human?' Joshua asked as he undid the top of the flask and sniffed the contents.

  Tristan raised his eyebrows as if to say, What the hell else would it be? 'Yes, it's human,' he said. 'You know the rules. Human blood only within the Brotherhood. You took an oath.'

  Joshua shrugged and then started glugging back what was inside. Thick, red liquid started pouring down his chin and dripping onto his chest.

  Lucas watched in horrified fascination. The smell alone was enough to turn his stomach, even without the added visual of a Thirster with no table manners wiping his hand across his chest and licking it clean. The fascination was with the process which saw the flesh on Joshua's arm and shoulder knitting back together even as he shook the last drips from the bottom of the Thermos and ran his tongue around the lid. It happened as quickly as a skin forming on a pan of simmering milk. The others were watching too, even Grace.

  'Lucas, where were you in all this?'

  Lucas tore his eyes off Joshua and looked over at Tristan. Here it came.

  'Half-and-half couldn't make it across the lot without being seen,' Joshua said with his mouth full, wiping a trail of bloody spittle off his lips with the back of his arm. He paused to lick it up.

  Lucas ignored him. 'Like Shula said, the Hunter turned up. Joshua was down, Shula got shot. Caleb was blinded. I figured the only option was to get out before one of us got killed. I didn't know if there were other Hunters nearby.'

  'How very collegiate of you. Putting your brothers ahead of the kill.'

  Lucas stayed silent. Wasn't that what the Brotherhood's oath said they should do? He bit his lip to stop himself from reminding Tristan of the fact. Tristan didn't like being spoken back to.

  'What do we do now?' Tristan asked.

  It was a rhetorical question but Shula answered him anyway. 'Let's go back and kick their asses,' she said, clapping her hands together.

  'Tonight?' Neena asked. She had dark circles under her eyes and clearly wasn't up for a repeat session of the night's hash-up.

  'Let's go back tomorrow night. Without Caleb. Even a girl - a pathetic little human girl - could take him,' Shula said.

  'She wasn't that pathetic,' Joshua answered, discarding the Thermos with a belch. 'She kicked your ass, Shula. Hmmm,' he said, leaning in close to her and sniffing loudly. 'Mmmmm, Colombian, I think. Fresh roasted.'

  Shula scowled at him. He laughed at her and started flexing his arm, admiring the pale new skin that had formed.

  'I'm coming too. I'm finishing this,' Caleb said, stepping forward.

  The others stared at him. No one argued, though - you couldn't argue with him when his tail was arching over his head like that.

  Tristan interrupted them, his voice cutting a silent swathe through the middle of them. 'You think you get second chances in this game? The Hunters will have strengthened their protection. She's too important to them. She'll likely be untouchable now until she's trained.'

  'We still have a chance. We could get her,' Shula tried again.

  'No,' Tristan answered. 'We had our chance. You failed. No one's going anywhere. It's too dangerous - if she manages to kill one of you, which frankly wouldn't surprise me, we'd be in even more trouble than we are now.' He paused, looking grim. 'I need to speak to the Elders. Clean yourself up,' he said, looking at Joshua, his lip curling in distaste, 'it's nearly sunrise. I'll see you all tomorrow night.'

  They glanced at each other and then one by one moved towards the door. Lucas hung back, letting the others go ahead. He wanted the chance to speak to Tristan alone.

  Grace was ahead of Lucas. He noticed the expression in her cloudy blue eyes. She was somewhere a million miles away. He reached to hold the door open for her. She smiled absently and walked on through, her arm brushing his hand as she went.

  He heard her gasp and for a moment thought she'd stubbed her toe on the door jamb. Then he saw her eyes. They'd widened into two big blue pools and were fixed on him in abject horror. Her lips parted and a question formed but then she seemed to come to, her gaze dropping to the floor. She frowned and was gone in the next second, racing down the corridor.

  Lucas stood watching her. Halfway to the stairs she paused and looked back at him over her shoulder, still frowning, and with fear in her eyes.

  Lucas stared after her. What had she seen? She had seen something, he knew that - but what? Grace never usually reacted to the flashes she saw - of the future or the past. She never even bought lottery tickets.

  He wondered vaguely if it was bad, if she'd seen his death, and noted with detachment that he felt nothing about that except maybe a fleeting curiosity about who would kill him. Not how, or where, or when, but who. He didn't feel scared, though, he thought with some satisfaction.

  'Lucas?'

  Lucas started. Tristan was talking to him.

  'Walk with me,' he said, striding past and out into the corridor. Lucas followed him, his curiosity piqued. They walked in silence until Tristan stopped outside the training room and held open the door. Lucas hid his frown and stepped ahead of him into the room. Weapons were piled on a table and hung on the walls - everything from blades and swords to crossbows and machine guns, though there were more of the former and less of the latter, there being a general suspicion of human, modern weaponry amongst the Elders.

  Tristan shut the door, shrugged off his jacket and strode to the furthest wall, grabbing a slender, heavily hilted sword from the table as he went. He tossed it to Lucas, who caught it reflexively in his right hand and brought it up to an offensive position levelled straight at Tristan's chest. Tristan smiled and with a flourish unsheathed another sword which he'd slid from a casing on the wall. The metal gleamed blue under the lights.

  Lucas bounced onto the balls of his feet and started circ
ling. Tristan was a Shadow Warrior like him so there was no point in fading - he'd see him instantly. Already Lucas's heart rate was raised, his palms beginning to sweat, and he took a moment to straighten his grip on his sword. They were fairly evenly matched in terms of height and build, but Tristan was injured in one arm and twenty-five years older. Even so, Lucas wasn't about to underestimate the man.

  'Whose fault was it tonight?' Tristan asked, lunging suddenly towards Lucas, his sword a blur in his left hand.

  'No one's,' Lucas answered, parrying the blow easily.

  Tristan took another step towards him. 'It's always someone's fault, Lucas. I know you're all young and,' he grimaced, 'inexperienced. I realise the situation is unusual. But if the Brotherhood can't even handle a seventeen-year-old girl without full power, who's not even been trained yet, then our situation is worse than the Elders would have us believe.' He swung at Lucas again.

  Lucas swallowed his answer and spun out of the way as Tristan's blade cut the air in front of his face. Tristan's mention of the Elders had silenced him. The Brotherhood had been almost destroyed barely a year ago. Lucas and the others were young bloods, barely trained, there to replace the generation before who had all been hunted to death. All except for Tristan whose injury and age took him out of the fight.

  As the sole survivor of the previous generation of the Brotherhood, Tristan's job was now to train the next generation - Lucas and the others. For a moment Lucas saw the situation from Tristan's perspective. He didn't envy him having to report back to the Elders on this one.

  'Like I said,' Lucas said, feinting to the left and coming up behind Tristan, 'she wasn't exactly your average human. She fought back. She was quick. Faster than I've seen before in a human. As quick as a fully trained Hunter.' He paused, remembering how she'd surprised Caleb. 'And instinctive.' He thought of how fast she'd been when she hit Shula. None of them had seen it coming, not even Grace. 'She's a natural.'

  'She would be,' Tristan said, frowning now as Lucas backed him into the corner towards one of the arched windows.

  Lucas darted forwards, his blade striking Tristan's. 'I think you should send me back. Alone,' he said.