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Hotbloods by Bella Forrest (25)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Navan went over to the door and opened it, looking at the shifter expectantly. The shifter looked back at him, confused.

“You’re not staying in here,” Navan said. “You’re going out there.”

“And you’re not afraid that I might run off?”

“Oh, I’m not afraid . . . But just to be on the safe side, you’re going to be attached to the ship.” He gave the chain a yank and the shifter lurched forward, nearly falling. He pulled the shifter to the door and then gave it a kick, sending it sprawling onto the ground.

I almost felt bad for the thing, though I knew if given the chance, the thing wouldn’t think twice about sinking its disgusting teeth into my flesh.

I settled down next to Navan at the front of the ship, and we started the journey, the shifter moving slowly beneath us. Navan kept the ship low, though every couple of minutes he’d move it higher, so the shifter was lifted completely off the ground, the chain tightening around its neck like a noose. It coughed and gagged, spit flying, body spasming until Navan lowered the ship enough that it could reach the ground.

“You think I’m being cruel,” he said, glancing at me.

“No.” I shook my head but then reconsidered. “Well . . . maybe a little. Isn’t it good enough that it’s chained up and being pulled along by the ship?”

“That thing has done more evil than you could even imagine,” Navan replied. “Don’t think for a second that it wouldn’t hurt you, too.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “You heard it say how they’ve been feasting on human blood, right?”

“Yeah... That part was kind of hard to miss.”

“Shifters are crafty, and they’re also sadistic. If they’re drinking blood, they’re keeping their victims alive for as long as possible, because they want fresh blood—they’re not interested in carrion. They kill slowly, dragging it out for as long as possible. Any humans they’ve taken, they’ve tortured—trust me. Think about a horde of those things taking you apart piece by piece. So jerking it around a little bit here and there—it’s not cruel at all.”

I shuddered.

We continued at a slow pace, the shifter slipping and sliding along the icy surface. Suddenly, we jerked downward, as though the shifter had suddenly gained superhuman strength and was pulling the whole ship.

“What the—” Navan started. He peered out the window, his eyes widening.

A pack of wolves had appeared out of nowhere, it seemed, and were attacking the shifter, who was trying to out-maneuver them but failing. Suddenly, one of the wolves changed into a bird and flew up before dive bombing the shifter, its sharp talons spread.

“It’s a pack of shapeshifters,” Navan said, gritting his teeth. He threw the ship into neutral, and we hovered there, above the melee. He opened the door and yanked on the chain. “They’re going to tear that thing apart if we don’t get it up here.”

I got up to help him—the bird had changed back into a wolf, though a few of the wolves had changed into their regular form, like our shapeshifter, and they were tearing at its pink flesh.

“Why are they trying to kill it?” I stood behind Navan, pulling on the chain, leaning all my weight back.

“These things don’t care,” Navan grated out, giving the chain a hard pull. “Get me one of the guns, will you? Shifters don’t have any loyalty to each other. And they probably knew this one would give up their secrets to save itself.” He lunged forward and grabbed the shifter as it came level with the ship’s door. One of the wolves had clamped its jaw around the shifter’s foot; Navan leaned over and punched it in the nose. It changed shape as it fell, howling in pain. I handed him the gun, and he took several shots.

Navan slammed the door shut once the shifter was inside. It lay there, groaning, jagged lacerations running the length of its body.

“Great,” Navan said. “I guess you’re going to have to ride in here with us for the rest of the journey.”

I looked out the window and saw that the shifters had changed shape and were now all a flock of birds, with hooked beaks and talons.

“Uh, they’re still coming for us,” I said nervously.

Navan went over to where the weapons were stored and grabbed one of the rifles. I picked up one of the throwing knives and went over to the door. There were only a few of the birds left; the rest had been killed by Navan’s rifle shots. I took aim and let the knife fly. It spun end over end through the air, the blade sinking deep into the bird’s side, right below the wing. It plummeted, changing back to its original form as it landed on the ground in a lifeless heap.

Navan gaped at me. “Wow... That was . . .” He peered out the open door at the ground where the dead shifter lay in a widening pool of blood. “Impressive.”

We didn’t have much time to admire my knife-throwing skills, though, because the ship shuddered and dropped a few feet. My stomach flipped at the sensation.

“Something’s wrong with the ship,” I said, grabbing the steering wheel. I tried to steady it, but the ship shuddered again. “We’re going to have to land.”

Our landing was heavy, and the ship slid along the ice for several hundred feet before finally coming to a stop.

“This was really not part of the plan,” Navan said. He glared at the shifter. “You stay here.”

I followed Navan out of the ship. The exterior looked all right, but there was an acrid smell in the air and a billow of smoke rising from the back of it.

“That can’t be good,” I said. “I wonder if one of those birds got into the engine or something.”

“This seems to be a recurring theme,” Navan muttered. “Did I do something to deserve being cursed with all these broken-down ships? We don’t have time to fix this!”

“We don’t have much of a choice, though, do we?” I asked. “How are we going to get anywhere if the ship is broken?”

Navan sighed. “I guess we’ll have to comm the Fed for help. Who knows how long that’s going to take.”

“Maybe I could look at it. I am going to school for mechanical engineering.”

It was a stretch, I knew, to think that I could go from fixing the drive train on a bicycle to fixing whatever was wrong with this ship, but I wanted to at least try. I wanted to feel like I was actually contributing something to this mission, other than just being a liability that Navan had to worry about.

“You can try,” Navan said. “But I doubt even I could fix it, and I have experience with these types of machines. I think you’d have to be a magician, since we don’t have any parts. The Fed will have to supply us with the parts at least.”

There was a cackling, hacking sound, and Navan and I both turned toward it. The shifter had dragged itself to the door and was halfway leaning out of it.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Navan growled.

“You two are both fools,” the shifter said. “I can hear everything you’re saying.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not the one who’s chained up and bleeding,” Navan retorted. “So I suggest you shut up. Go make yourself comfortable—we’re going to be here a while.”

“Coldbloods always want to act a lot smarter than they really are,” the shifter said. “We’re basically here. It’s maybe a ten-minute walk.”

Navan narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

“Suit yourself,” the shifter said, “but you’re the one who’s going to end up looking like a fool if you sit around here waiting, only to find out you were right next to your destination.”

“Just go back inside!”

Navan waited until the shifter had disappeared back into the ship before he looked at me. “What do you think?” he asked in a low voice. “Do you think it’s telling the truth?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? Why would it lie about that?”

“It could be a trick. It might want to get us off the ship and in the woods so the others can attack us.” He frowned. “But the thing is right—I’d feel pretty stupid if the place we’re looking for really is right nearby.”

“Well,” I said, “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

Navan ran his hand over the lower part of his face and then took a deep breath. “You’re right. But I’m not going empty-handed. I’m going to take both of the guns. I think I saw a holster in there with the rest of the weapons. It’d probably be a good idea to have both guns with us.”

It was hard to read the shifter’s expression when we told it that we’d walk the rest of the way. It only swiveled its eyes back and forth and then nodded. “Maybe you’re not as stupid as you look,” it finally said.

Navan flicked the chain. “You’re staying on this,” he said. “And if this turns out to be some ill-conceived little trick of yours, you’re going to wish that group of shifters really had torn you apart. The first thing I’ll do is rub salt over each and every one of your cuts, and then I’ll

“Okay!” I said. “Why don’t we get walking?”

The wind had picked up, and I shivered even though I had the jacket zipped up all the way. The shifter seemed unaffected by the temperature, and I hated that I was the weak link here, that I was the one who couldn’t deal with the cold.

“You okay?” Navan asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

I gritted my teeth in an attempt to keep them from clacking together. “I’m fine.”

“You’re cold,” he said. He looked at the shifter, who was probably about ten feet in front of us. “You better be taking us the right way,” he warned.

The shifter cast a casual glance over its shoulder. “Don’t worry,” it said. “If the girl dies out here, I’ll happily dispose of her body.”

Navan jerked the chain so hard the shifter fell back, gagging. “Keep moving, or I’m going to dispose of you.”

The anger ebbed on Navan’s face as he looked back at me, and though his protectiveness was comforting, a larger part of me didn’t like feeling as though he needed to take care of me. I tried to think of being in a hot tub, of drinking tea, a warm bubble bath, wool sweaters, down comforters. Anything that might help generate some body heat.

Luckily, we didn’t have much further to walk. After several more minutes, the shifter stopped.

“We’re here,” it said. “See? That took about fifteen minutes. We would’ve made it in ten if you hadn’t been walking so slowly.”

“Where is it?” I asked, ignoring that last comment. All it looked like was another forest clearing.

The shifter sneered. “We’ve protected the area with an invisibility shield. I highly doubt that any humans would be intelligent enough to stumble upon our settlement, but we knew the Fed might be lurking.”

I glanced at Navan, who was staring straight ahead, as though he actually could sense something there in the clearing.

“It’s telling the truth,” he said finally.

The shifter grinned, clearly pleased with itself.

“Great,” I said sarcastically. “So you told the truth. Now what?”

“Now,” the shifter said, “you are going to have the chance to look inside. And I can all but guarantee that you are not going to believe your eyes.”

Navan rolled his eyes. “I highly doubt that.”

The grin on the shifter’s face widened, exposing those yellow shards of teeth. A wave of revulsion washed over me, and an uneasiness rose in my stomach, though I wasn’t quite sure why. Our mission was almost complete—shouldn’t I be feeling something closer to relief?

The shifter took a few steps forward and then stopped, holding a hand up. It pressed its palm into the air, and though I couldn’t see anything, it was clear that its hand had come to rest upon something.

“Here,” it said, and suddenly, the air started to shimmer, and I could see the outline of a huge dome. The shifter swiped its hand to the side and a gap in the dome appeared. “Have a look.”

I started to step forward but Navan put a hand out and stopped me. “Let me look first,” he said. “We don’t know if this is some sort of trick.”

He leaned his head in first, but I was right behind him. With our heads inside the boundary of the invisibility shield, we could suddenly see everything that had been previously hidden. Navan inhaled sharply, his whole body going rigid. There were plenty of shifters, all wearing the same blue uniform the one in the alley had been wearing, all with the bulging eyes and broken glass teeth. It was a repulsive sight, but all things considered, not that unexpected.

It took me a second to realize why Navan had reacted like that.

There were coldbloods mingling with the shifters.

I blinked, but the picture didn’t change. The coldbloods were walking amongst the shifters, their black wings out, on full display—also clad in blue uniforms.

“What the . . .” Navan said, before yanking his head back. I pulled my head back too, and the gap in the invisibility shield closed.

“Were those coldbloods?” I asked.

Navan nodded slowly. “That wasn’t just my eyes playing tricks on me,” he said. “You saw it, too.”

“But . . . but . . .” I let my voice trail off, not wanting to state the obvious, but unable to quite wrap my head around it.

“But there aren’t supposed to be any other coldbloods on Earth,” he said.

“Surprise!” the shifter shrieked, and it lunged toward Navan, tearing at his wings. Navan stumbled back and lashed out at the shifter, but it had managed to catch him by surprise and Navan’s swing missed. While Navan and I had been looking through the invisibility shield, the shifter must have managed to free itself, because the chain now lay in a pile on the ground.

“Navan!” I gasped, rushing toward him. The shifter jumped back and evaded another of Navan’s swings. It cackled as it slipped through the invisibility shield, disappearing from our sight.

“Oh my God,” I breathed, “are you okay?”

He nodded, a grim expression on his face. “We’ve got to get out of here,” he said. “Now. And activate that suit.”

“But—”

“Just do it!”

The urgency in his voice sent a shiver of anxiety up my spine, so I pressed the button and we took off. He had a gaping tear in his right wing that slowly oozed blood. As we ran, I saw another shooting star arc across the sky . . . And then another. The second one was closer, close enough that I realized it wasn’t a shooting star at all.

It was a ship.

Much like Navan’s ship, actually. And they were headed straight for us.

Or for Navan, rather.

“Look out!” I screamed as one of the ships zoomed precariously close. It seemed unfathomable that it could have caught up to us so quickly, but there it was, its unearthly surface shimmering.

Navan tried to take flight, but with his injured wing, he couldn’t. He landed heavily on the ground and tried to run, but the ship was upon him. I raced over right as two coldbloods flew out and grabbed Navan. He managed to pull one of the guns from the holster, but one of the coldbloods knocked it from his hand before he could shoot. He tried to fight them off, but they easily overpowered and disarmed him, then threw him onto the ship. It started to lift away, but I lunged at the last second and caught hold of the door, pulling myself in right before one of the coldbloods slammed the door shut.

They threw Navan down on the ground and fell upon him, thrashing him. He fought back, but he was no match for them. I hid underneath a bench, scanning the interior of the ship for something, anything, that I could use to help him. If only I’d had more knives! But the space we were in was almost sterile in its emptiness, and there was nothing, except for my bare hands.

But I couldn’t just sit there.

No sooner had the thought crossed my mind did Navan look across the floor toward me. His coldblood senses must have been particularly sharp compared to the others, because he seemed to detect me in spite of the suit. He lifted his head, even as the blows continued to rain down, and looked right at me, shaking his head. It was such a slight gesture it was almost imperceptible, but it came across loud and clear. If I got caught by the coldbloods, they’d kill me, and Navan would be defenseless.

Right now, there was only one choice: I had to stay where I was.

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