Shifting

Shifting Page 48

“I have to kill you now,” Bridger whispered, tightening his hand in my hair and thrusting a gun against my chest. He pulled the trigger and pain exploded in my heart. I jolted awake and pressed my hands over my ribs. The pain disappeared, but the memory of Bridger’s cold, hard eyes stayed with me. I closed my eyes and tried to catch my breath.

“Maggie!” Bridger’s voice hissed. He padded across the cement floor and crouched at my side. “What’s wrong?” His hair was damp, he smelled like shaving cream, and he was wearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a black T-shirt.

“Nightmare,” I whispered. “Where are we?”

“We’re beneath my house.”

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Not long. Maybe forty minutes.”

“Are we safe yet?” I questioned groggily.

Bridger frowned and shook his head. “No. But close. My father is here. With reinforcements. Some of the Walkers felt uncertain about your death. They’re lingering, waiting for any hint that you still live,” he explained. “They must believe you are dead or you will never be safe.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to sort through my muddled thoughts.

“You’re confused,” Bridger stated. “And mad.”

I opened my eyes and scowled at him. “I know.”

“Do you want to talk about it? You can ask me anything you want. Oh, yeah—” He held something out to me, a pair of boxer shorts. I blushed as I shakily pulled them on beneath my long T-shirt. “Sorry—I gave all of my sister’s old stuff away and Katie didn’t leave a thing behind,” he said, raising one eyebrow. “Scoot over.”

I scooted and Bridger squeezed into the sleeping bag with me, his face inches from mine, our legs tangled together. He put a hand on the small of my back and pulled me closer so the only part of my body not touching his was my face.

I stared at him for a long moment. He smiled, but I knew there was another side to him—a dark side. I almost felt as if I didn’t know him anymore.

“You shot me,” I whispered.

The smile fell from his face. “I had no choice. That was the only way I could save your life and mine—by making them think you were dead. There were too many Walkers for me to fight alone, and they’d already breached the gate. But if they thought you were dead … it was our only chance.” I could hear pleading in his whispered voice. I didn’t have to sense his feelings to know how much he craved my forgiveness.

I understood what he was saying, but it still made me furious that he’d shot me. I changed the subject.

“You say I’m like you. What do you mean?”

“I shift. I’m a Shifter like you.”

For a very long time I stared at him, wondering if I was dreaming. I reached out and placed my hand on his warm neck, gently probing until I found the pulse beating against his skin.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his eyes searching mine.

“Making sure you’re real.”

“Very real.”

“So, when you … shift … are you a cat, too?”

“I am a golden eagle.”

“Atash? It was you who saved me from the coyotes?”

“You threw a rock at me, Maggie.”

“Sorry. But the moon … the night of the full moon. I was at the mine and so were you, but you had a gun. You weren’t an animal. Were you?”

“Of course I wasn’t. I am a lot deadlier with a semiautomatic weapon than with talons and a beak.”

“What about prom night? Why did you leave? And after graduation?”

He took a deep breath. “For the first time in years, I could feel Walkers in Silver City. That was prom night. I could feel them hunting … someone … who they were desperate to catch. I figured it must have been one of their own, a deserter. Now I know it was you.” He traced my jawline with his finger. “I’m sorry I left you at the prom, but I had no choice. It was a life-and-death situation. I shot one that night.

“When they attacked Danni at Mrs. C.’s house after graduation, I realized they were targeting you. Danni was wearing your jacket. I assumed that by hurting you, they were trying to get revenge on me for me shooting one of them, so I stayed as close to you as possible to keep you safe. Now I know the real reason they wanted you. You’re like me.”

“But … I can’t help but shift when the moon is full,” I stammered, thinking maybe he and I weren’t quite as similar as he thought. I had been a slave to the moon’s will for two years.

“There are so many things you should already know. The only reason you would be forced to change at the full moon is if you haven’t shifted since the previous full moon. It’s like you get this overflow of energy and have to use it. And for some reason the moon pulls it out.”

Well, that explains it, I thought bitterly. Until I moved to Silver City, the only time I ever changed was when the moon pulled it out of me.

“I still can’t believe the Walkers came after you in broad daylight,” he mused. “I thought they did everything under cover of night.”

“How do you think they found me?”

“They’ve known what you were from the very moment your mother conceived you. You’re a be-tas-tni.”

“A what?” I asked.

“Be-tas-tni. A mirror. It means you can mirror any animal you see, with a few limitations. It also means—” He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair.

“What? It also means what?” I asked, nervous.

“You’re a mix. All mirrors are a sort of really rare hybrid.” He cleared his throat and I stared at him, waiting for the meaning behind his words. “Your mother was a shifter—she had to be. But your father? The only way to make a mirror is to have a Shifter for a mother and a Skinwalker for a father.”

My entire body seemed to freeze—my breathing, my heart, my wide eyes. After a long moment I forced a breath of air into my lungs. “What are you saying? That I’m a Skinwalker after all?”

“No. You’re the offspring of one. And the offspring of a Shifter. Somehow, against all odds, you’ve evaded the Walkers. Possibly, due to all the foster homes you lived in, they couldn’t find you, not with you moving around so much.”

“But if they wanted me dead so bad—from birth, if you’re right—then why didn’t they shoot me as soon as they found me? Like when I walked home from the bus? Why didn’t they kidnap and kill me, and leave my body on some deserted dirt road? I mean, they killed all of my family. Why not me?”

“I never said they wanted you dead. You’re be-tas-tni. I highly doubt their intent was to kill you. Most likely they wanted to capture you—to own you.”

“Own me? Why?” I asked, unsure if I wanted to hear the answer.

“Since you have the gifts of both a Walker and a Shifter, you are more powerful than either. You heal instantly and don’t need a skin to shift, like me. But, like the Walkers, you can turn into any animal you want. If they caught you and made you believe you were one of them, they’d have the most powerful weapon against the Shifters imaginable. And think of what would happen if you fell in love with one of them.” His lips pursed. “Think of what your offspring would be like.”

My skin started crawling at the thought of having babies with a Skinwalker.

“And if you didn’t side with them, they would probably …” Bridger cleared his throat and shook his head the tiniest bit.

“What? They would what?” I demanded.

His body stiffened against mine. “Trust me. You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do. Tell me or I’ll go insane wondering.”

He took a deep breath and his eyebrows pulled together in a deep frown. “They could use your skin.”

My head started to spin and my blood felt too hot. I needed a major subject change before a panic attack set in. “So,” I said, voice trembling. “You can only shift into one thing?”

Bridger nodded. “Yep. Only one. If Shifters even attempt to force themselves into a different shape than they’re born to, they die. Except you. Exactly what else can you turn into?”

I know he asked simply to take my mind off what he’d just said. But I didn’t care. “Anything with fur. Except really small things, like mice, and really big things. I tried to turn into a horse and got stuck with hooves for the night.” A small smile broke through my worry. “And once, I tried to turn into a snake. It almost worked.… What?” Bridger was staring at me with a look of such terrified shock that I wondered if we were about to be attacked.

“A cold-blooded creature?” he whispered. “And you didn’t die?”

“I was covered with weird, scaly dust for a day. That’s all.”

His hands tightened on the small of my back. “I remember that day. We talked at the park and you were literally glowing.”

“Why do we shift at all?” I asked—the question that had plagued me since the first night I had changed.

“The universe must have balance: light matter and dark matter, good and evil, life and death, joy and sorrow. Thousands of years ago a man sold his soul to the devil and became the first Skinwalker. To keep the universe in perfect balance, someone had to offset him—be his opposite—so the first Shifter was born. Otherwise there would be an imbalance in the world and evil would be given the opportunity to conquer good. Since then, lots of men and women have delved into dark, evil things and traded their souls to the devil in exchange for supernatural powers—one of them being the power to wear an animal skin and shift—Skinwalkers. So Shifters have had the need to multiply. Does that answer your question?”

I nodded, but I could hardly believe it. It sounded so … fantastical.

“Skinwalkers aren’t Navajo, are they?”

“Evil doesn’t choose a race or nation. Anyone can follow the witch way and become a Walker,” Bridger explained. “In this part of the world, the burden to battle the Walkers has fallen to the Dineh—the Navajo. But in other parts of the world, other races are Shifters. My mother is descended from Bran the Blessed, ancient Druid king of England. His people were the first Shifters in Britain.”