Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Aidan
Caolan and I get up and follow him toward the stairs. I inhale deeply, but I’m not getting anything. Still, I trust Alistair. The magic is still calm, so it obviously doesn’t consider me to be under threat.
Does that mean whoever Alistair can smell is on our side?
I no sooner think it than the magic rears up, clanging warnings through my head.
Okay, so maybe the intruders are dangerous, but the magic is confident that Alistair has things in hand?
The magic settles again, and I marvel over how… interactive it’s become. It never used to be like this. A sign that times are changing?
“How many?” I ask Alistair softly as we go up the stairs.
“Around a dozen. They’re still hanging back, so it’s hard to tell.”
“It’s impossible,” Caolan says in a hushed tone. “The spell I used to follow you would work only for me, and I portal-jumped. There is no way I could have been followed. They did not even know I was there.”
“Maybe not immediately, but they would have smelled you and your magic,” I tell them softly. “We can sort out the details later, but either you or Alistair were followed, and they seem to have been right behind you.”
They look startled. “ Smell me?” They shake their head. “I thought that was a myth.”
Alistair and I exchange glances. “We’ll need to talk about myths later,” he says. “For now, I need to know if you can use your magic to support yourself physically.” He leads the way into the master bedroom but leaves the lights off.
“Yes… it depends on what exactly is required,” Caolan replies.
While Alistair explains our escape route, I grab our laptops and other essentials that would be hard to replace—or dangerous in enemy hands—and pack them into bags with cross-body straps.
Anything attached to our bodies goes wherever our clothes end up when we shift.
So if I’ve got a laptop bag full of stuff strapped to me when I shift, it’ll still be there when I change back, but I can forget about it completely while I’m in cat form.
Pretty cool, huh?
“I can do that,” Caolan says. “And I can make it so the spell is not visible, also.”
“Great,” Alistair declares. “Aidan will go first. You’re next, and I’ll bring up the rear.
If I fall behind, you keep going.” He meets my gaze in the dimness as fear clutches my stomach.
Leave him behind? No feckin’ way. “You keep going, Aidan. I’ll catch up or the special ops team will come back for me. ”
“What special ops team? There isn’t one here!” I hiss. I know he’s being sensible, but every fiber of me is going nuts at the idea of leaving him behind.
“They’re going to be on standby just as soon as I make this call,” he says, holding up his phone. “Open the window in the bathroom, would you? And show Caolan where they’ll be going, but keep the light off and be as quiet as possible. Let’s not give the details of our plan away.”
I want to argue with him, but now really isn’t the time, so instead I take Caolan’s elbow and guide them into the bathroom.
While I open the window and help them climb up on the vanity to poke their head out, I listen to Alistair’s call.
It’s to Gideon, and at least part of it seems to be in code or shorthand.
When he’s done, he locks the bedroom door, then joins us in the bathroom and locks that door too.
“We’re going to wait a bit,” he says. “We don’t want to move and then be stuck in the backup location because they haven’t closed in.
As soon as they start to move closer, I’ll send a message to Gideon and we’ll go out the window.
Hopefully, by the time we’re in the other house and they’re searching this one, local enforcement will be nearly here. ”
I start to nod, then realize something. “How are you going to get out the window?” He’s too big. He might fit in hellhound form, but hellhounds don’t have the type of claws needed to climb a sheer wall. He’d get out the window and basically fall two stories to the ground.
“With a lot of luck and a very carefully timed shift,” he says, and maybe I’m imagining it, but he doesn’t sound as confident as usual.
“I don’t understand,” Caolan says. “Shift… you mean change to your other form?”
I freeze. Did we mention that we were shifters?
“My other form?” Alistair asks, and I know he’s picked up on that too.
“You have a twin soul, correct? I can see it when I look at you. Yours is canine. Aidan’s is feline.”
“You can see it?”
They wave a hand in frustration. “Not see with my eyes. My magic sees it. Senses it!”
I have so many questions—so, so many—but now is not the time.
“Yes. We will change forms to go out the window. My cat will be able to scale the side of the building, but Alistair’s…
” I hesitate, unsure how his translator spell will cope with the word “hellhound.” “...canine can’t do that.
He’ll need hands.” And even then, it might be a problem.
As I recall, one of the things he liked about this window was that it was more than an arm’s length from the edge of the roof.
Caolan squints at Alistair in the faint light from outside, then turns and looks up at the window. “You won’t fit this way. I can help.”
Alistair does his lopsided eyebrow thing, and I bite back a smile. “You can?”
Caolan nods. “I don’t have claws like a cat either. I will create a shelf outside the window to stand on, then climb up to the roof.” It shrugs. “I can leave the shelf long enough for you to use it too.”
In this moment, I could kiss them. A tiny part of me warns that they could very easily not follow through, causing Alistair to plunge to the ground, but the magic is still projecting calm rainbows through my mind, and honestly, even if Caolan is on our enemies’ side, they would gain far more by helping us now than by maiming Alistair and losing our trust.
“Thank you,” Alistair says. “That’s very kind of you. I accept your offer.”
And then we stand in the bathroom, listening and smelling for intruders. Well, that’s what Alistair and I are doing. Not sure about Caolan. Maybe they’re wondering if this is all some kind of weird scheme to test their trust?
“May I ask a question?” they say abruptly, breaking the silence.
“Yes,” I tell them, this time not bothering to add any caveat. I’m pretty sure it would be okay with me declining to answer.
“Earlier, when Alistair told you to bring me in here, I was referred to as ‘them.’ Is there a local or cultural custom by which gender pronouns are not assigned until after a ritual?”
I look at Alistair. He’s looking at me. Neither one of us wants to take on this potential minefield. Contact with a new species is hard .
In the end, I do it. After all, I’m the closest to a diplomatic representative of the two of us. Alistair’s my muscle.
“No, there’s no such custom. We merely didn’t want to assume your gender and, uh, we weren’t sure if there were any cultural or societal taboos against us asking.
” I grimace, glad they can’t see me clearly in the dim light.
“It’s been a long time since our peoples interacted, and a lot has been forgotten.
We weren’t even sure whether your species has assigned genders and didn’t want to begin again by causing offense. ”
Caolan nods. “That is reasonable. I have also been concerned about this. Perhaps we can agree that amongst the three of us, there will be no offense to any question asked with respect and a genuine desire to learn? We can be envoys and… interpreters for our respective people.”
“That’s an excellent idea. Thank you, Caolan. This will enable us to share information much more quickly.”
“You’re welcome. And my pronouns are he/him.”
“So are mine,” I tell him. “Alistair’s, also.”
“Hush,” Alistair whispers, and a second later, I catch my first whiff of what he’s been smelling. Hellhounds. A group, although I can’t quite tell how many—mostly because they have the same underlying base scents, which tells me they’re from the same geographic area and family groups.
They approach steadily, not speaking, trying to be quiet, although it’s clear from the way they occasionally scuff or mutter that they haven’t had the kind of training Alistair has.
“Let’s go,” Alistair murmurs subvocally, and I lay my hand on Caolan’s arm and turn him toward the window so he knows what we’re doing. Alistair already dismantled the stool-and-blanket shelf that was in here with me all day, but I can manage without it.
I shift and leap up onto the vanity. Caolan sucks in a breath, but I don’t look back, pushing up off my hindlegs and twisting halfway so I can catch myself on the windowsill but be in the right position to latch on to the exterior wall.
It’s only been about thirty hours since the last time I did this, but it still feels amazing to let my felid instincts take control. The cat in me knows how to do this, and he won’t let me down—even if he is pissed that I don’t shift more often.
Balancing half in and half out of the window, I extend my claws and latch on to the wall above the narrow window, giving myself a moment to make sure my grip is secure before shifting my weight and pulling the rest of my body out.
The window embrasure on the outside is just a few inches deep, but it’s enough for me to regain my balance and push upwards.
Within moments, I’ve climbed up to the roof.
I pull myself over the edge and move a few feet along, allowing room for Caolan to join me while I smell and listen for the intruders.
They’re at the front door. What is it with people and the front door? I know the back courtyard is fenced, but it’s not that much more effort to get over the fence. And there are plenty of windows too.