Endangered

by Michelle Larkin

The girl watched, seemingly mesmerized as she drowned her pancakes in as much syrup as humanly possible. “You are seriously addicted to sugar.” “I know. I’ve been looking for a good support group. Haven’t found one yet.”

“Someone gave this to me when I was your age,” she said, handing it to Skye. “It’s the symbol of the phoenix.” She watched as the girl studied the pendant’s gold face. “When her old life is over, she rises from the ashes into a new life, emerging even more powerful and made even more beautiful by her newfound strength. Eventually, with time, that’s what will happen to you. I see it in you, Skye, so I know it’s there. Someday, you’ll see it in yourself, too. And when you do, it’ll be time to pass this on to someone else.” She retrieved the necklace from Skye’s hands, draped it around the girl’s neck, and clasped it securely in place. “From now on, just know you’re never alone.”

Can I borrow that?” She knew from experience that the door to the hospital’s rooftop was locked. “No.” “No?” Aspen turned to Skye. “Did she just say no to an angry woman with a gun?” Skye’s eyes grew wide.

The girl winced as she rubbed the side of her head. “I have a huge goose egg, courtesy of soldier ass-face.” “Very observant. His face did resemble an ass, didn’t it?”

“She’s beautiful,” Skye said, her eyes glued to the empty landing below. Aspen holstered her gun and let out a lungful of air. “If by beautiful you mean terrifying and dangerous, then…yes, she is,” she said, bending to retrieve the baton. “Pretty sure I peed my pants a little.” Skye set a hand over her mouth to stifle a case of the giggles.

“How do you feel?” Aspen asked. “Better without all the holes,” he said, patting his stomach and chest in disbelief. “You were dead.” “I kind of figured that out already.” “Like, really dead.” “Did Beckett do a celebratory jig?” Oscar surveyed the shadows. “He’s been after my position as alpha for years.” “Like, big Xs over your eyes dead,” she added. “What about Miller? He’s quiet about it, but I can feel him breathing down my neck for pack leader.” “Like, deader than lobster in butter sauce.” Oscar turned to face her. “Feels like you’re rubbing this in just a little.” Aspen shrugged. “I’ve just never met a zombie before.” She stared at him. “How long does it take for body parts to decompose and start falling off?” With a slightly panicked expression, he checked his own wrist for a pulse. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m very much alive.” “Do you have a sudden craving for brains?” According to every horror flick she’d ever watched, brains were always a zombie’s delicacy of choice.

That woman had a hard candy shell, but she doubted there was anything chocolaty inside. More like an M&M stuffed with turnip.

“Pop!” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the storm door spring open. Oscar poked his head out. “Taking the new name for a test drive?” “Drove it. Happy with it. Old news,” she said, never taking her eyes from the tree line. She felt his eyes shift to the tree line, too. “Oh,” was all he said. “Is there a party you forgot to mention?” He sidled up alongside her and whispered, “I may have asked Beckett to tell a few friends about you. Didn’t expect this kind of turnout.”

The door to the cabin swung open as an old woman stepped outside. “All the rooms are ready, dear,” she said, shuffling over in a bright pink bathrobe and fuzzy slippers to give Tora a warm embrace. What was this? Aspen was intrigued. There was someone who willingly hugged the doctor and, judging from the genuine smile on her face, appeared to actually like her? Poor thing must be suffering from dementia.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he whispered. “But this is the safest place for you right now. Will you do me a favor and just go with the flow?” “You don’t fool me,” she whispered back. “You’re only saying that because you’re a zombie.” Oscar stared at her in confusion. “What?” “Zombies love dungeons. It’s like a well-stocked cooler of buffet-a-la-brain down there.” He laughed in spite of himself.

Eyeing her rechargeable SureFire R1 Lawman with IntelliBeam, Oscar plucked a plastic Rayovac flashlight from the basket. “Trade?” he asked, holding his flashlight out with a look of hope. She didn’t even dignify that with an answer.

“Wake up!” Tora shouted. Aspen sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. “Who died and made you my alarm clock?”

“Here,” she said, handing Aspen a stainless-steel thermos and brown paper bag. “Doughnuts?” Aspen could smell them a mile away. She reached into the bag and pulled out a chocolate-frosted doughnut with sprinkles. “I take back everything bad I thought about you this morning,” she said, taking an inhumanly large bite.

Tora reached over and pressed a button to the right of Skye’s bedroom door. “Skye, this is Dr. Madigan. Aspen and I are training. We’ll be gone all day.” She released the button and turned to Aspen. “That message will play automatically as soon as the sensors detect movement in her bedroom.” Rolling her eyes, Aspen leaned over to press the same button. “Skye, this is Aspen. Sorry for the boring message from the robot doctor. Have fun today, eat lots of sugar, and kick Oscar’s ass in air hockey. Aim for the right corner—that’s his weak spot. Oh, and check your closet and dresser drawers. A little fairy paid you a visit in the middle of the night and brought you some cool stuff. Later, kiddo.”

For the first time since they’d met, she noticed they were the same height and build. But that was where the similarities ended. Tora’s fair skin, curly blond hair, and amber-gold eyes perfectly contrasted Aspen’s olive skin, straight black hair, and dark eyes. They were like yin and yang, Aspen realized. In more ways than one.

“What’s next? We’re not doing that naked thing now, are we?” Tora walked over to a stainless-steel refrigerator, opened it, and grabbed two water bottles. She tossed one to Aspen. “Let’s hit the showers and then meet in the library.” “Please tell me we’re not doing the naked thing in the library.” “It’s called melding,” Tora said, taking a long drink. “And no, we’re not doing that in the library.” “Good.” Aspen sighed with relief as she unscrewed the cap from her bottle. “We’re doing that in your bedroom after the library.” She started to choke on her water.

“I’m a lesbian. Just thought you should know.” He’d calmly set his spoon down on the edge of the bowl. “Are you sure?” She’d nodded, still chewing. “Thank God,” he’d said, leaping up from his chair to hug her. “Pubescent boys showing up at my house to take you on a date is a level of stress I just can’t handle.” He’d wept with relief. “Please, Aspen—I beg of you—please don’t change your mind about this. Boys are nothing but bad news until they turn sixty. If you change your mind at that point, I’d offer my begrudging support. For the record, my strong personal preference is that you remain a lesbian. But no pressure,” he’d added quickly.

“How can I feel a detail? That doesn’t make sense, Tora.” “It’s called using your imagination.” “I don’t have one of those.” “Of course you do. I’ll prove it.” Tora pulled up a chair alongside her. “Close your eyes and imagine you’re just finishing a five-mile run.” “I don’t have to imagine. We just did.”

“There are a lot of things you could probably convince me to do, but this is where I put my foot down. As a proud gay woman, I am not going back in the closet.”

Apparently, her gaydar needed new batteries.

They both came out of the closet together, the irony of the moment not lost on Aspen.

Inside was a long mahogany table and numerous swivel chairs on wheels. Aspen had the sudden urge to challenge the nurses to a chair derby down the hospital corridors. Since chocolate wasn’t readily available, that would be a great way to break the tension. She frowned, wondering how she could convince Tora to let her do it.

“An apology?” Aspen set the back of her hand against Tora’s forehead to check for a fever. “That’s another sign.” “Of what?” “Your fondness for me.”

Unable to fight the urge any longer, she took a seat and sped backward down the corridor as a freckled, auburn-haired boy was rounding the corner. She spun around, reached out, and caught him, pulling him safely into her lap as she braked with her feet. “You okay?” He climbed down and turned to face her. “You’re the Myriad!” “Aspen.”

The infant reached out again with a telepathic cry for help. It was a strange sensation, like an SOS call that dialed straight into Aspen’s brain, making the adrenaline course through her body. “Don’t worry, honey. I hear you. I’m bringing someone who can help,” she said aloud as she raced through the tunnels at top speed. All she could think about was getting to Skye.

Through it all, the thing that struck Aspen the most was how Skye had managed to hold on to her humanity, kindness, compassion, and inherent goodness. Skye and Hope were truly made for each other. They’d make an unstoppable team.

She opened her mind, body, and spirit to let Hope take everything she required for her journey. Aspen trusted this young soul would take only what was needed. She closed her eyes and waited patiently as Hope sifted through her being, gently and respectfully gathering her arsenal for the long road ahead.

“Do I still have feet?” Tora asked. Lifting her upper body with Herculean effort, Aspen balanced on her elbows and glanced down. “I think that’s what they’re called,” she said, delirious from exhaustion. “Those are the things at the end of your legs?” “Yeah. Those. I can’t feel them anymore. Good to know they’re still attached.”

Tora grinned as their eyes met. “I’m kidding.” “And the sense of humor finally pokes its shriveled-up self out of the dark hole it’s been hiding in.”

“Believe me, there’s nothing I want more than sleep right now. But these are ideal conditions for melding. Chances of successfully shapeshifting during a melding session increase substantially when you’re this tired.” She yawned. “Physical and mental exhaustion push you closer to your animal instincts.” “My animal instincts are pushing me toward eight hours of hibernation.”

“Your curls…” she said, trying hard not to smile. “There are more of them. And they look very angry.”

“Shall we put it to a vote?” Oscar raised his hand. “All in favor of The Ferals?” Hope’s head popped up from the pouch on Oscar’s chest as she defiantly spat out her binky with an audible pop. Her angelic baby face did not look happy. “Our youngest member has cast the first vote,” Oscar said, catching the binky before it hit the floor. Hope’s eyes took on a golden hue as she gazed up at him. “Alpha Genesis,” Oscar announced with a shrug. “Just came to me. Those in favor?’”

Oscar’s frown deepened. “You want us to start knocking boots with humans?” Aspen sighed. “No one uses that term anymore, Pop.” “Right, sorry. Don’t mind me. I’m ancient.”

“Hugs are like hot cocoa during a snowstorm. They make you feel like, no matter what’s going on outside, everything will be okay. Haven’t you ever gotten one of those?”

“Are you saying I’m the one causing this?” “Yep.” “I can’t see your face right now—because if I open my eyes, my eyeballs will leap from my skull to escape the pain in my head—but I’m definitely sensing a self-satisfied smirk.” “I prefer smug-yet-playful smile.”

“Glad you find this funny.” “What I find funny is you’re a living, walking lie detector, detecting your own lies.”

Aspen couldn’t be happier for them. Oscar would finally get his chance to have his own baby and not have to keep borrowing everyone else’s. She held out her hand. “Now that you’re not all pathetic and depressed, I’d like my earmuffs back, please.”

“I am not comfortable with this plan,” Tora whispered as she and Aspen made their way to the library. “Any number of things could go wrong. Every likely scenario ends with your death.” “Your pep talk really needs work.”

“Whatever questions are floating around in your mind right now. I promise not to take offense. Go ahead. You can ask me anything.” Perfect. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to Helga yet. “How do Shrouds have sex?” “Except that,” Tora said. “But you just said I could ask you anything.” “I meant anything except that.” “Is it really that hard to explain?” Tora sighed. “It would be a lot easier just to show you.” Aspen raised an eyebrow. If there was any more fitting moment in history to raise an eyebrow, she couldn’t think of one.

“Why do you think I don’t drink, smoke, or do drugs?” “Because you’re a control freak?”

“And separate bedrooms from now on,” she called out through the door. “Then the earmuffs are coming with me.” Aspen grabbed them off the nightstand. There was only silence from the other side of the door. Then, “I’d like to propose shared custody.” “Of my earmuffs?” “You take them today. I’ll take them tomorrow,” Tora announced through the crack. She sighed. “Fine. Can I get up now?” “Yes. Please, go.”

“Did you pick your bird?” “Two, actually. The brown booby and the bay-breasted warbler.” There was a brief silence. “Did you pick those for the reasons I’m thinking you did?” “They reminded me of boobs.”

“First of all—and you should know this by now—there’s nothing whatsoever that’s passive-aggressive about me. I say what I mean, and I mean what I say. Second, as much as I may not like it—which I don’t, by the way—I’ll respect the thirty-yard rule because it’s important to you. You’re important to me. So what’s important to you is important to me. It’s important you understand that,”