Changed by Fire (Phoenix Rising #6) - Harper Wylde Page 0,94

Egged on by my frustration at my brother’s taunts, my Puca lashed out with claws and teeth. Fuck. He’d been right. My Puca was fast and strong—tufts of fur flew as he struck again and again. I pounced, pushing him to the ground, and my Puca dug his teeth in for the win. When I tasted blood, Ciarán shifted into mist again. My Puca didn’t hesitate, and I felt a tug deep inside me as my Puca hissed. I could feel everything and nothing. It was a sensation strong enough to have me reeling, and it was so unfamiliar it snapped me back into my own body with a jarring thud. I winced as the scrapes, scratches, and bites Ciarán had landed stung.

Ciarán materialized with a raised brow. “Misting takes some getting used to. Your Puca’s as bad as you—he doesn’t like to lose.”

“Again,” I demanded, even as I fought to draw in air. “Come on, little brother. Let’s see what you can do.” Ciarán froze for a moment, his mask dropping completely as he stared at me in shock and a huge grin sprawling across his face—not goofy or mindless the way it usually was. This one was warm and genuine, his eyes lighting up as he slowly nodded.

“Again, big brother,” he agreed, letting his rabbit form take over once more.

Twenty-One

Nix

Two bunnies fighting to the death was never something I expected to see. And, okay, technically they weren’t fighting to the death, but they sure seemed to be trying with the number of blows they were exchanging. I wasn’t sure exactly what had happened between Ciarán and Killian to cause this type of change between them—not to mention the fact that he was in public in his Puca form. As twisted as it was, part of me was jealous. I’d enjoyed spending so much time one-on-one with my bunny, knowing he only trusted me in that regard.

The gray rabbit was slightly smaller than the black one, though other than that the pair were identical. They curved around each other like a ying-yang symbol as they batted, bit, and clawed, making fur scatter into the air in puffs. When the gray rabbit disintegrated into mist, the black rabbit followed suit, the mist interweaving before flaring with sparks of light. Suddenly, the gray rabbit popped from the mist, skidding across the ground as if it’d been kicked. Killian materialized next, gasping for air. I hurried forward, tossing him the shorts on the ground.

“That was something else,” I told him, shaking my head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you fight that way.”

“He’s good at it too,” Ciarán remarked, tugging on his own clothing. “I think we’ll be ready to move to other animals soon.”

I gaped. “Other animals?” I turned my focus to Killian. “What other animals?”

“Apparently, it’s part of being a puca,” Killian replied dryly, wincing as he inspected a deep bite on his arm. “Bloody fucker, that was deep,” he muttered.

“I mean, I knew Ciarán could do the rabbit thing, but you-you can do other things too?” I’d just believed it was only Ciarán—the man was the epitome of odd, why should his powers be any different?

“Ciarán thinks I’ll be able to, in time,” Killian answered with a shrug. His red hair was dark with sweat, and he wiped at his face. “He said it takes practice, but that I could turn into any number of things.”

“Wow.” Shock raced through me, and my Phoenix chirped. “Um, does that mean you won’t be a bunny anymore?” I wasn’t able to keep the sadness out of my voice. I loved my Puca in his bunny form, even though I knew it wasn’t his favorite.

“Annie girl,” Killian purred, tugging me against him and laying a gentle kiss on my lips. “I’ll always be a bunny for you. I’m just trying to learn the other forms as well. Every puca has a preferred form, and, if I had to guess, mine would be that bunny you like so much. You really think my Puca is going to give up being spoiled and petted?” His voice was a husky burr as he nuzzled my head, and I had to laugh. He really did enjoy being cuddled.

“You did well, Kill,” Ciarán praised, clapping a hand on his shoulder as he pulled away from me. From the scowl Killian shot him, it seemed he might have purposely aimed for one of the wounds he’d inflicted, although his eyes were still wide and innocent. “Want to go again