It took me a moment to get my bearings, a glance at the moon hanging in the deep violet sky and the distinct lack of scents assaulting my nose confirmed my initial knee jerk reaction. Yep, I was back. The first time I’d arrived, just a couple of weeks ago, I’d assumed this world was a dream, just one I’d apparently become fixated on. Only a couple of brawls and a few well placed teeth had convinced me otherwise, showing up in the same place on my body every morning. This world was as real as my own. An alternate world. Frustration pummeled me, clawing at my chest as I waved away the concerned glances being thrown my way, half wondering how these humans would explain my sudden arrival to themselves. A break in reality? Too much to drink? Most likely, their brains wouldn’t be able to cope and their minds would tuck the memory away, where it wouldn’t be able to drive them insane.

Me? I had no such luck. I was pretty sure I was already on that rollercoaster and riding the track straight into crazy town. If I wasn’t already there. Reaching my hand around my head, I scrubbed at my hair, shielding my face from inquisitive eyes as I dodged into the nearest bar and took a seat at the counter, ordering a beer. This world had its own set of rules to unravel and learn, and even though I’d been visiting for a while now, I didn’t know enough to feel comfortable. For example, I’d worked out the biggie, were shiften secret or out in this version? In this world, I was pretty sure most humans knew. They did in Harmony, this town, anyway. In this world wolven and felen and bearen got along okay. Pretty much the same as in the real world, but a hell of a lot more feral. Or wild, you could say. Wolven weren’t cops in this world, bearen weren’t firefighters, and felen didn’t do … I still wasn’t sure what they did. Protect the body of Rhen, our goddess and creator?

Ignoring all that, I was happy to be here, that’s for sure.

Up until moving to the States, Serenity in particular, I had enjoyed the usual dreaming experience. You know, the occasional being buried alive nightmare, the trip down memory lane and being reunited with my mom, who had died along with the rest of the female shiften, and the requisite sex dreams. England was a long way away and, despite the weirdness surrounding my life over here in the States, it was better than being back home with my family. If you could call them that. I was the black sheep among wolves. The unwanted child. I had no plans to return home, because whatever it was that had pulled me over here, it had to be better than the life I’d left behind. And I wasn’t suicidal … yet. Whatever it was that fate had planned for me, it had better hurry its ass up, or I’d be making some decisions of my own. Namely of the female variety.

A beer appeared in front of me and I growled my thanks, lifting it to my lips without glancing up. In my peripheral vision I catalogued the crowd, noting the group of males huddled nearby, each taking turns to curl their lips and throw me a look that just asked for a little face rearranging. Even though my senses in this alternate world were almost as dull as a human, their combined scent was enough to mark them as bearen. Two women occupied the table next to them, dressed to kill with an eye for the group across from them. Other people dotted the room, some dressed in suits, clearly having called in on their way home from work, others dressed to party. But it was the male in the far corner, next to the exit, that snagged and held my attention. His individual scent was masked by the wafts of perfume swallowing the room, thick enough to have my throat tightening and nostrils trying to batten down the hatches.

Tilting my bottle, I took a long swallow, watching him carefully. I knew him. His hair was a little different, but it was his face that had thrown me initially. Or, more like, the lack of something on his face. Easing off the stool, I made my way across the room and slumped down in the chair opposite him, letting my bottle hang between my legs as I fixed him with a scowl.

He blinked, then scowled back.

Now, this was the Mac I knew from my world.

Setting his beer down, he formed a fist, resting it on the table between us in silent warning. “Can I help you?” His voice was a low growl.

“Mac?” I replied, half wondering if what Crew, a wolfen in my world, had told me about traveling was true. According to him, travelers—people who could move to and from different worlds, ones that ran parallel to our own—didn’t generally bump into themselves, because only one, or a couple of versions, existed. Non-travelers had a counterpart in each existence, one who looked the same and usually had the same name, but that’s where the similarities ended. And that’s why this Mac hadn’t been scowling, until now.

“Who wants to know?”

Ah, so Crew hadn’t been messing with the new kid. Which also meant that I really was a traveler. Biting back my mental groan, I tried to figure out if this meant something, that I’d finally met someone in one of these alternate worlds that I knew in real life. Surely, it had to. “The name’s Nial.”

Alternate Mac looked about as impressed as his real life version had looked when presented with the information. “You’re not from around here.”

“Winner, winner, chicken dinner.”

All I got was a slow blink.

Sheesh. Tough crowd. “England,” I offered.

“Nial England?”

“No, I’m British.”

Still blank.

Giving it up as a lost cause, I tilted my bottle, circling it to take in the whole room. “Why am I here?”

Obviously deciding that I either wasn’t worth the posturing or posed no immediate threat, he settled back in his seat and shook his head, muttering under his breath, something about nut cases and being a magnet for them. “The Packhouse?”

“No, not the pub—”

“Pub?”

“Bar,” I corrected. “The town.”

His eyes narrowed as he rapped his fingers against the table top. “Harmony? Why the fuck would I know, stranger?”

“Nial,” I reminded him with a smirk.

He grunted at me, then tilted his head, “You’re not from around here, are you?”

I thought we’d already covered that. Sighing, I scratched the stubble on my chin. So much for thinking this was some kind of cosmic sign. “Nope. I’m a long way from home.” In more ways than one.

Quick as a flash, he leaned forward, his voice coming out on a low hiss, “Are you a traveler?”

Whatever lie I’d been about to feed him died on his next words.

“Like Crew and his woman?” At my hesitation, victory lit his eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I knew it.” His fist slammed down on the table, spilling beer over the side of his glass to join the sticky mess that already coated the table.

“Wait a second…”

“Dahlia. Her name is—was, whatever, this different world thing is a complete mind fuck—either way, Crew’s mate is called Dahlia.”

My mouth snapped shut, nearly cutting off my tongue. Not only had I met someone I recognized, they apparently were well aware of all the fucked-up shit that had become my life. My turn to lean forward and lower my voice. “Tell me everything about this world.” There was nothing like speaking to a native for intel, and maybe I’d figure out what was drawing me here. I had a couple of hours to waste before I had to be somewhere, anyway.

* * *

“You sure you’re good with this?” I hooked a thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the bedroom we’d just exited.

Mac nodded, crouching down to stick his head in the fridge, reappearing with a couple of beers. Passing me one, he shrugged. “You’re a friend of Crew’s.” As if that explained it.

Twisting off the top, I lifted a shoulder, half in apology, half because I couldn’t believe I was going to say it. “I work with him, but I wouldn’t call us friends.” I barely knew the guy. Hell, I’d only been transferred to the KSRT a couple of weeks ago. The Khain Special Response Team, Khain being the demonic asshat who’d killed all the female shiften and with it the future of all shiften. That is, until the first One True Mate had been found and the prophecy that no-one had dared believe in had come true. An angel really had taken it upon himself to father hundreds, if not thousands, of babies, each destined to choose a mate among the shiften. That had to be a kick in the balls for Khain, knowing that we stood a chance.

Mac’s voice dragged me back from thoughts of the past. “Enemies?”

“Nope.” From what I’d seen of Crew, he was a solid male. Honest. Powerful without the ego to go with it.

“Good enough.” And that was that. Again. The Mac I knew would have at least fired off a sarcastic quip. Actually, the Mac I knew wouldn’t have offered me his spare room… This version was a hell of a lot easier to like.

I considered my options. I never knew how long I’d actually spend in this world, or how fast the time was passing back home, and maybe he’d be able to help. I also still had time to kill. “Can I ask you something?”

He collapsed onto the couch, the springs groaning under his weight. “Sure, hit me.”

Crossing over to the window, I gazed out, surveying the street below us. “Something is pulling at me, tugging me from place to place.” First, from my home in England across the sea. Then, to a different world in my sleep. An insistent beacon, one I was powerless to resist. No, not a beacon. A calling. A yearning. An ache inside my chest that demanded to be listened to.

My eyes flicked to Mac, who had fallen silent, a look of contemplation on his face. At least he was taking me seriously. Then he shook his head. “Never heard of anything like it.”

I had my suspicions, but my senses were dulled in this world, which didn’t help. I could only hope. A worthless emotion. Something I’d been taught at a young age.

“Can you feel it now?” He waved at the window, at the outside. “Where’s it telling you to go?”

I concentrated, like I had many times before, putting every ounce of determination of strength into forcing the … thing inside me to obey. A flicker, same as before, a weak answer, could be anywhere. Useless.

“Nothing—” The pulsing beat leapt to life, hammering inside my chest with a force that stiffened my spine and ripped a snarl from my throat, rippling out from me and sending invisible shockwaves through the air, out into the world.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He jumped to his feet, slapping me on the shoulder before striding to the door. “What are we waiting around for? A thunderclap? A bolt of lightning? Or, as my sister, Mackenzie, would say, a well deserved kick in the ass?”

He only just managed to step aside in time as I barreled through the door, his chuckle following me down the steps and outside into the night air. Joining me, he cracked his knuckles and stuffed his fists into the small of his back, as if limbering up. A grin lit his face. “Let’s go hunting, Nial.”