. . scars.”
They were impressive, Max begrudged, all taut flesh stretched over muscles hard as violently hewn rock, each rugged physique marred by harsh imperfections caused by unimaginable things. They moved almost eerily in sync, not speaking as they breathed in the wildness of the dawn before jogging across the yard.
“Go ahead.”
Max gave a start and glanced her way. “What?”
“Go with them. You know you want to.” At his hesitation, she reasoned, “You can work any day. How often do you get to play outside with your friends? Hurry before they get too far ahead.”
“Darlin’, I won’t have any trouble catching up.”
They’d disappeared into the thick woods by the time Max slipped out through the French doors, leaving his designer suit coat, linen shirt, tie and Italian loafers trailing behind him.
To run.”
– – –
No surprise, they left little disturbed in their wake. Cleverly disguising their number by treading in one another’s footsteps, they moved fast and effortlessly through the tangled woods he’d traversed since childhood. Smart. Never careless. Dangerous opponents, useful friends. Max grinned, relishing the challenge. He followed at a brisk pace, until realizing somewhere along the path, the steps went from imprinted by many to just one, the slightly uneven impressions of a still recovering Cale.
So where were the others?
Just a whisper of air at his back had Max turning, coming nose-to-nose with Turow Terriot. Before he could react, Colin and Rico flanked him on either side, Kip dropping from an overhead branch to block him from continuing after their king. Their eyes gleamed in the deep morning shadows.
Had he made a fatal mistake?
With a low, rusty chuckle, Cale came up from behind his youngest brother, placing a hand on Kip’s shoulder to move him aside so he could smirk at their host. “Those who’ve found themselves in your position rarely live to tell it.”
“Might say the same,” was Max’s cool response.
A flash of teeth. “We could find out,” Cale began, his smile spreading, hinting of another agenda, “or we could teach them what you, me and Colin already know about who and what we are.”
The other three exchanged quick glances.
“I think we should show them,” Colin announced, starting to open the front of his tech pants.
“Whoa, dude!” Rico’s hands flew up to block his eyes. “Tell me this ain’t gonna turn into something that’ll scar me for life.”
“No,” Kip murmured, stepping in closer. “I think we’re going to find out how Max helped Col cheat death.”
Their brother had been dying, destroyed from inside and out by some new toxin conceived by their enemies in the North. Then suddenly, all traces of the poisons eating through him were gone overnight except for the scarring on one hand. Clean living? Or magic?
With a lift of his brows and a mysterious smile, Colin stepped free of his clothing, his chiseled physique bold and bare. After a roll of massive shoulders, he dropped to a four-point stance on mossy ground. A low groan tore from him as muscles rolled and tensed . . . and he changed, until the only thing recognizable were sharply intelligent green eyes.
Jaws dropped. He’d transformed, not into the huge, half-beast state they adopted when doing battle, but completely, into something . . . else. What stood before them on four legs with a tail was a huge reddish-brown wolf.
“Holy shit!” Speaking for them all, Turow reached out cautiously to . . . his brother?
With a quick snap, the animal’s teeth closed about Row’s hand, holding with the slightest pressure as one green eye winked. The curious trio crouched around him, touching the wide head and muscular form lightly.
“Can you . . .?” Rico began, then looked up at Savoie. “Can he hear us, understand us?”
“Yes, but we can’t speak while in this base form.”
“We?” his startled glance cut from Max to Cale. “You’ve done this, too?”
Their king chuckled. “Word to the wise, don’t transform back in the middle of a public place. It’s kinda chilly and tends to draw attention.”
Turow stroked his palm along broad, furred shoulders. “Amazing. Is he in pain?”
Max shook his head, assuring, “The first transformation is rocky, but it gets easier. You’re not as powerful as you’d be on two legs, but healing is incredibly fast,” he placed a hand to his own bullet-scarred chest, remembering. “You’ll go unnoticed by your enemies. And it’s a freedom like nothing you can imagine.” He paused then added quietly, “Something my father taught me.”
Row’s intensely blue stare met his. “Teach us.”
– – –
After her partner