Hey, all! Breaking and Entering is my new baby-- for the summer, at least. I'm hoping to finish it by the time school starts back up. It's going to be a very slight undertaking, as undertakings go. I'm not going to put it through a bajillion drafts, I'm just going to go through two or three and then post the chapter. There will be plot holes and other things that bug both of us, but I'm going to ask you to be nice and patient. With any luck, I'll have time over... um... winter break, maybe, to revamp the whole thing. Right now, I'm just focused on splatting an amusing story down.

Oh. And chances are that most of the chapters are not going to be twenty-two pages long. lol

Anyway, reviews are appreciated! Let me know what you liked, what you didn't, or what you think is going to happen:) Ta-ta!

Breaking and Entering

By Hazeleyed Everglades

Ch. 1

The key ring’s merry jingle was cut short by its abrupt introduction to the pavement. I glared at the (rather small, thank god) collection of dulled bronze and silver metal. (If I had a single key more than I currently do, I would lose them. I lose a lot of things. Murphy’s law and all that.)

A small groan escaped as I bent down to snatch them up. I scowled as I fumbled for the right one before jamming it in the lock, but my irritation was forgotten as I staggered in. I was just glad to be home. Work sucks. Especially double shifts. The door slammed shut behind me and I dropped my bag next to the couch in the living room.

“If I were you, I’d turn around and march my cute little ass right back out the door.”

A pause followed, in which I was too startled to form even a measly thought, let alone a coherent one.

“Then again, I doubt my ass is as cute as yours. But I’m sure it would be, if I were you.”

Uh, thanks?

I promptly forgot how to breathe. There was a man in my apartment. Normally, I would not hesitate to rejoice, but since it was a strange man and all I really wanted was to stare at Law and Order reruns for a few hours, it put things into perspective.

Okay, Danielle, just try not to scream. Turn around, slooowly, and don’t make any sudden moves.

“Huh. You’re ignoring me.”

I gritted my teeth, preparing for the worst, and pivoted to face the man who is always the bad guy on said reruns.

The second I spotted him I jumped in the air as my heart slammed once against my chest before fainting dead away. I shrieked a far girlier shriek than I thought myself to be capable of. “Jesus Christ!”

He grinned. “See something you like?”

“What?” I know I sounded stupid. He probably got that reaction a lot, especially if he frequented random apartments. I could only stare, openmouthed. His body—not his clothes, mind you, just his skin—shimmered with muted sparkles. It looked as if he’d been hosed down with Tinkerbell dust. As I stared, I realized I could see the vague outline of my ugly kitchen counter through his torso.

“I said, ‘D’you see something—’”

“I heard you,” I said, blinking a few times to see if my eyes would clear. I refused to rub them; that would have been embarrassingly clichéd. “Why are you see-though?” I said, then wanted to slap myself. As if that was the most important matter at hand. “And sparkly? And what are you doing in my apartment? And what—”

“This is a dream,” he informed me. He wore a mischievous half-smile. It gave away his lie. “My name is Alex. Pleasure to meet you, Danielle.”

My eyebrow cocked upward. “Pleasure’s all mine, I’m sure,” I said, a bit dryly. How did he know my name? “So if this really is a dream, I suppose that would explain your… uh, skin condition.”

He rolled his eyes. “You want to know if I was born like this.”

“Um, yes, please.”

“I wasn’t.”

“So, how…?”

“Confidential,” he said. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

I narrowed my eyes as I speculated. I didn’t quite believe him, but I couldn’t quite not believe him, either. “Okay. So what are you doing in my apartment?”

His half-smile widened into a smirk. “I’m here to ravish you, of course.”

I made a face. “I’m not really in the mood to be ravished. Thanks anyway, though.”

“We can hang little children instead,” he offered, and I blinked, wondering if I’d misheard. “If you want.”

Apparently I hadn’t. I snapped my fingers and tried not to let my incredulity show. “Aw, damn, I’m fresh out of the little buggers. I buried the last of them yesterday.”

“That’s okay. We can just grab one next door.”

“I got him last month,” I said. I was pretty sure Alex was kidding about hanging the neighborhood kids. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” he countered. He was having way too much fun messing with me.

“I live here. I have an excuse. You don’t. What are you doing here?”

He sobered then, but only a little. “Looking for something.”

My nerves hummed and I began to feel a little uncomfortable, but I didn’t want to risk sitting down. The couch was so old and sunken that it would be impossible to escape in a hurry.

“Are you going to hurt me?” I asked.

His eyes glittered, either with malice or more mischief. I hoped it was mischief. “Is that a question or a request?”

Did it sound like a request to you, dorkwad? “Question,” I said.

He shifted his stance to a more comfortable position. I wonder if his feet fall asleep if he sits on them.

His eyes ran over me, taking in my very-much-not-toned muscles and nervous fidgeting. Goosebumps rose on the back of my arms and skittered down the small of my back. Am I being checked out by a ghost

Creepy.

“Yeah,” he finally said, “I could probably hurt you if I wanted to.”

How did that work? Sure, he must have been nearly six feet tall, but he was see-through, for Pete’s sake.

“Do you want to hurt me?”

He shrugged, and my ‘Danger, Will Robinson, danger!’ siren went off.

“Not particularly,” he said. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

“Like what?”

“Like run screaming out of the apartment yelling about home invaders.”

My inner siren fell silent again, though it still remained wary. “I think I can manage that.” I eyed the couch, then shrugged to myself and flopped onto the comfiest and most sunken of all the cushions. He wasn’t going to let me out anyway, so I figured I might as well rest my aching soles. “I usually can—as long as there’s no alcohol involved, anyway. The first day of my freshman year, I ended up so wasted that I ditched my friends and threw poop at this girl’s window.”

Alex laughed. “Who’s crap was it?”

I shrugged, feeling rather smug from the memory. It kept me from worrying about a strange sparkly man in my living room who warned me not to do anything stupid. “Hell if I know; I was piss drunk. I barely even remember it. But she deserved it.”

“If you don’t remember it, then how do you know you’re the one who did it?”

“There was crap on my hand when my friend found me.” I snickered. “At first she thought it was lava cake.”

“What did she do?”

Before I could answer, another man’s voice called out from the direction of my bedroom. His deep baritone rang against my dusty green walls and made the room smaller than it actually was. “How’s it going, Alex?”

Had they been watching me? Following me? Why—just so they could rob me? That didn’t make any sense; I was neck deep in student loans, old and new, and didn’t own anything of real value. They would know that if they’d been following me.

He had to know the revelation that there was another unknown, uninvited man in my apartment threw me for a loop. I had assumed Alex was the only intruder… Which was stupid of me, I reflected.

Was Alex’s friend sparkly and translucent, too?

Maybe it was a genetic disorder, and they’re brothers, or cousins. Something.

“It’s fine, Dylan,” Alex called back. He unconsciously leaned forward an inch as he spoke, as if it would send his words farther. “She’s home, though.”

“Yeah?” There was an incredible weight in that word, most of which I couldn’t begin to decipher. I did, however, catch the implication that I had somehow skewed their plan.

I took a mental inventory of anything that might be valuable—a few necklaces from deceased relatives, my grandfather’s hunting knife (which I never used. I only owned it because my older brother and I nearly came to blows over who would get it and there was no way in hell I would let him have it after I worked so hard to win it.) and a rather ornate eighteenth century clock from Germany.

Crap.

That thing was a family heirloom!

But they wouldn’t know about the clock unless they really had followed me.

I glanced at the wall—my German clock still hung in its usual place by the entrance to the kitchen.

Ookaay… I chucked my first theory out the window.

So either they hadn’t followed me, didn’t know about the clock, or didn’t care. I was betting they didn’t know about it.

I would have been fine with believing that they simply didn’t know about the clock, except for the fact that Alex knew my name. I hadn’t needed to introduce myself.

They’d been watching me and I had never noticed.

“Yeah, she came home a few minutes ago, but I don’t think we’ll need to involve her any more than she already is,” Alex called.

My gaze snapped to Alex so fast I almost ended up with whiplash. What?

Alex glanced over at me and held a finger to his lips. Don’t interrupt, Danielle.

“All right,” Dylan called back. “I haven’t found it yet, though, so just keep her entertained until I do.” Alex called back a confirmation, then returned his attention to me.

I realized it hadn’t even occurred to me to bolt while they chatted. Idiot.

When Alex didn’t say anything, I began to fidget again. I cracked my knuckles, then my neck. “So.”

He snickered. “Close your mouth. You’ll catch flies.”

The light arrogance helped me recover my wits. “It’s not open,” I retorted. “What’s he doing in my bedroom? There’s nothing for him in there.” Okay, so I couldn’t help but be a little nervous about a strange man in my bedroom. What if he went through my underwear drawer? Oh, god, what if he found my diaries from middle school!

Dear Diary,

Ohmigawd you wouldn’t believe it! He smiled at me today! (At least, I think it was me he was smiling at… I do sit in front of that slut he’s going out with…) But anyway, it totally made my entire day.

Gag, retch. Kill me now. Or better yet, burn the damn things, bury the ashes and kill the witnesses.

“Why, you want to go check it out with me?” Alex teased.

I snorted. “Not even in your dreams. I was just wondering if I need to change the sheets after the two of you leave—there are only two of you, right?”

He bestowed me with a succinct nod and a bemused smile. “Yeah, it’s just me and Dylan.”

I nodded, frowning a little.

“What?” he asked.

“Why did you tell me his name?”

“Dylan?” he asked. I nodded. “Because for all you know, ‘Alex’ and ‘Dylan’ are our names,” he said. I supposed that was his roundabout way of suggesting that he was a liar as well as a thief, or that I shouldn’t be so trusting. Though he’d advised that I leave when I’d first come home, I very much doubted he would let me leave now. Alex behaved nicely enough, but it was a matter of protecting his skin. If he had any sense at all, he would assume I would go straight to the station and send a few of the big, buff old guys with guns, batons, and pepper spray out to catch a couple of bad guys.

He would be right.

“Besides,” he continued, “We know your name. We’re just trying to make the playing field look more even.”

“This is your way of… returning the favor?” I guessed. “For letting you rob me?”

He actually had the gall to look pleased that I understood. “Precisely.”

I caught his gaze and held it for a moment. He remained calm under my scrutiny. I half-hoped my wry look would reveal some kind of real insight. What was a sparkly, transparent stranger doing in my living room while his friend went through my bedroom?

I found the fact that Alex’s buddy Dylan was in my bedroom highly unsettling. My imagination began churning out awful scenarios.

“You’re not going to rape me, right?” I said, frowning.

Alex’s brows snapped together in an obviously annoyed fashion. He seemed insulted. “Of course not.”

“But you are going to rob me.” It ticked me off when he didn’t answer. I snapped, “That’s why you’re keeping me ‘entertained’ while your friend goes through my bedroom.” Alex frowned again, but I plowed ahead anyway, too worked up to silence myself. “You didn’t count on me coming home early today, did you? I broke my routine—worked a double shift, missed most of my afternoon class, and skipped the rest. I came home early. You’ve been watching me.”

Alex shrugged, which only made me fume more. I was going to have permanent creases on my forehead from this evening alone. “So what if we have?” he growled. “We’ve been trying to keep you uninvolved—we’re not exactly working under ideal conditions here.” He waved a hand at himself to emphasize his unique condition, and I jumped back in, snarling like a pissed-off lioness.

“Wow, you’re observant. Did you figure that out on your own, or did someone help you?”

“Don’t be stupid. I don’t usually look like this,” he sneered.

He declaration gave me pause, but more important was the fact that I’d been insulted. I gritted my teeth. “Don’t call me stupid, stupid.”

His voice rose almost a full octave as he tried to imitate a little girl. I think it was supposed to be me. “I know you are, but what am I?” he mocked.

I snorted, completely disgusted. “Oh, that’s real mature.”

“Look who’s talking!”

“Excuse me?”

“‘Don’t call me stupid, stupid’?” Alex growled.

“Listen, jackass—”

A dog barked twice, and we both froze in mid-glare as the noise leapt off the walls and attacked our ears.

A huge mongrel sat on his haunches in the middle of my living room, waiting for us to stop yelling—it looked like some kind of bloodhound. I stared at him. Could dogs actually look exasperated? If anything, he looked irritated.

The dog’s fur rippled in an unnatural manner, and I blinked once, frowning a little. “Alex—?”

“Don’t do it,” he warned the dog, completely ignoring me. I frowned as worry twisted my insides into butterfly-shaped knots. Something about this felt… off. (Aside from the fact that a couple of relatively nice home invaders were holding me hostage just because I’d come home early.)

“Don’t do what?” I demanded. I’d decided to take the aggressive route to prove to them I wasn’t afraid.

Not that I wasn’t, but it was mostly to save face—whatever face I had left, that is.

The dog shrugged—I swear it did. I hadn’t realized dogs could shrug until then, but—oh, god.

I burst into hysterical giggles and flopped onto the couch. I landed on a lump and almost bounced off. I clamped a pillow over my face to muffle my laughter, but then I couldn’t breathe, so I took it off.

Dogs may be incapable of shrugging—I don’t actually know—but dogs that are in the process of turning into people can shrug just fine.

In a matter of seconds, the mongrel sitting on my living room floor became a lanky human with a mop of black hair. He towered—there’s really no other way to describe it—over both Alex and myself, even though his slight build ought to have cancelled out any imposing vibes.

Another chuckle escaped, though I’d managed to mostly calm myself by then. “Dylan, I presume? I’d like to say it’s a pleasure, but I really can’t.”

Alex, in contrast to my giggles, grew livid. “What the hell—”

“Hey,” I interrupted him and spoke directly to Dylan. “Are you guys in a cult?” Maybe if they thought I was crazy, they’d leave. After all, what could a crazy, in-debt undergrad possibly have worth taking?

Dylan floundered a bit. “Um—”

“A Harry Potter cult, maybe?” I pressed, “’Cause you know, if you had grey hair, you could be Professor McGonagall.”

“I’d have to be a woman,” he said slowly.

“True. So if you were a grey-haired woman, then you could be McGonagall.”

“We’re not in a goddamn Harry Potter cult,” Alex snapped, “Don’t be stupid.”

I dissolved into giggles again. Don’t be stupid? A dog has just changed into a man in my goddamned living room!

“This isn’t funny, Danielle!” he snapped again, rounding on me. Had he said it before? I couldn’t remember. “He wasn’t supposed to do that in front of you!” He pulled his mouth into a frustrated frown as my laughter barely dimmed.

I looked up at him and met his eyes. “You’re such a loser,” I gasped, then clapped my hands over my mouth again. It didn’t help.

“We should just tell her,” Dylan said, “She might not believe it, anyway.”

Alex snorted. “This is all your fault,” he growled.

“Like hell it is. She’d already seen you.”

I threw a pillow at each of them, which left me with only one to clasp around my front. It was a comforting, habitual gesture. “I’m still listening, in case you’ve forgotten.” My giggles calmed, but I still held onto an idiotic grin. “Just tell me, for god’s sake. Make it as crazy as you want.”

Alex’s frown deepened, but Dylan just shrugged and settled himself on the floor, leaning his back against the wall. I got the feeling he wasn’t as comfortable as a human as a dog—or whatever else he could change into.

God, that was so cool, what he could do. I’d always wanted a superpower.

“Are you an Animorph?” I blurted. “Or… um, related to Mystique?”

He raised an eyebrow, grinning. “From X-men?” He shook his head. “Nah. I’m just a regular shapeshifter.”

Alex snorted. “There’s nothing regular about it.”

I turned to him, eyeing his sparkly, see-through self with skepticism. “Can you do that?”

“I could, till I got doused with glitter,” he grumbled and shot Dylan a scowl that made me think Dylan had knocked Alex into the glitter.

“Magic glitter?” I said, sympathetically. I kept a straight face as I spoke. Really, I did.

He knew I was making fun of him anyway. “Yes.”

Dylan thought it was funny. I saw him grin from the corner of my eye.

I leaned forward and stage-whispered, “Did Merlin gussy you up?”

Alex gave me a dirty look, but Dylan jumped in before he could form a proper retort. “The birds cursed him,” he said. I frowned a little in bewilderment.

“Birds doused him in glitter?”

Dylan shook his head. We ignored Alex, who rolled his eyes at my confusion. “The birds are a clan of shapeshifters, just like the wolves—”

Alex coughed, and I caught a thinly veiled “Dogs,” in it. Dylan shot him a sour look.

“Just like the wolves or the cats. The formal name for the birds’ clan is Aderyngen.”

The sheer oddity of it all made my mouth run like I was drunk. “Did you give me something? Some… magical pill-slash-vapor-whatever into the air vents?” Then again, I had told them to make their story as crazy as they wanted. Guess they took it to heart.

Alex rolled his eyes again—I got the feeling he expected me to take things a little better than I actually was—but neither he nor Dylan said anything. I heaved a sigh and blew my bangs out of my eyes. “Okay,” I said, and threw up my hands, “Okay, fine. I can go with this.”

Alex grinned. “Good. Any questions?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Yeah.” I spoke slowly, taking the time to properly phrase my first question. “What’s the difference between the clans? You can only… turn into an animal from that certain—clan? Are they clans or cults?”

Dylan sighed. “Would you quit with the cults?”

Alex’s lazy smirk widened and I wanted to come up with something really clever to knock him off his horse. I couldn’t think of anything. I didn’t particularly like the way he was looking at me. It gave me the distinct impression he’d eaten the canary—and gotten away with it, too.

A small pause filled the room and grew as I considered them with narrowed eyes. Nobody said anything for a full minute.

“Explain it to me,” I said. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“There’s a lot we’re not telling you,” Dylan agreed.

“There’s a lot we’re not going to tell her,” Alex said pointedly. Dylan shrugged.

Those two were fun to watch—with only a few simple gestures, they could communicate perfectly with each other. It was their own private language.

“Fine,” Alex grumbled. “But don’t expect me to explain it all.”

“Fine,” Dylan said. “Fine. I’m part of the wolf tribe, otherwise known as the Chigen clan. The cats—”

“If you’re part of the wolf clan, how is it that you were a dog a minute ago?”

“Wolf is just…” He struggled for the words. “It’s our general name. We can turn into dogs, wolves, foxes, coyotes—anything relating back to wolves.”

“‘Chigen’ actually means ‘dog clan,’” Alex added with a quiet snicker. Dylan scowled at him. “They just think ‘wolf clan’ sounds better.”

“And it does,” I said, mostly just to spite Alex.

“Anyway—”

“You’re not from the same clan, are you?” I asked. Alex’s constant poking at the dog clan—and Dylan, it seemed—made me so sure of that fact that when I spoke, it hardly sounded like a question. “You’re a dog—wolf,” I said to Dylan, who nodded, though he still looked displeased with my slip. I turned to Alex. “And you’re not a bird—either that, or you did something bad, and deserve to be doused in permanent sparkles.” I paused. “Though you could be one of them and still be punished like that, I guess. I don’t really know—I just can’t see you with canary wings, and you wouldn’t make fun of the dog clan if you were part of it.”

“So you think I’m a cat?”

“Are there any other clans, besides those three?” I countered.

“Fish,” Dylan chirped. “The Bysgotagen clan.”

I snickered. “I can’t really see you with gills, either,” I told Alex. “You’re a cat.” His hair was the same color as a cougar’s pelt.

He smirked again, and I realized he very well might have eaten the not-so-figurative canary.

“Anyway,” Dylan said again, “all the clans are like that. The cats can turn into anything from the cat family—leopards, lynxes, common housecats—the fish can turn into whales, dolphins, sharks—”

“Wait a minute,” I said, breaking my staring contest with Alex, “Dolphins and whales aren’t fish. They’re mammals.”

Dylan held up his hands. “I don’t make the rules. Besides, they swim in the ocean, right?”

“I guess,” I said, and took a deep breath. “Okay… so tell me about the birds.”

“The Aderyngen,” Dylan said, “Most of them are nice enough, but there are a few that are almost as prideful as the cats.”

Alex sulked. “They’re annoying,” he grumbled. “Just ‘cause they can fly, they think it makes them better—”

“My brother adopted a stray cat when he was in high school,” I said, “Cats all think they’re better than everybody else.”

His eyebrow arched, and he returned to his normal, haughty self. “Maybe they are.”

“And you obviously don’t have an ego the size of Alaska.”

Dylan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Christ, do I have to separate you two?”

I shot Alex one last glare before swallowing my hostility. “Sorry,” I said to Dylan, “but is he always this annoying?”

“Nah, he’s just been pissy since his run-in with the birds.”

“What he’s forgetting to mention is how goddamn pissy he’d be if he was in my place,” Alex snapped.

“I bet he’d still be nicer than you,” I retorted.

He coughed. “Suck up.”

“Get bent, jackass.”

“Children!” Dylan threw his hands in the air and stalked off.

I watched him go, feeling rather contrite, until I realized he was heading for my bedroom again. I threw the couch pillow I’d been holding to the side and lurched to my feet. “Wait! Don’t go in there!”

“I have to,” he called over his shoulder. “Sorry, Dani.”

The ‘Dani’ threw me for a quick loop—it was just so personal; only my friends and family called me that—but I continued to hover on his heels, making anxious noises and cracking my knuckles. I half expected to look down and find myself wringing my hands like a dishtowel. “C’mon, Dylan,” I cajoled, “I understand you’re supposed to be looking for something—something I probably don’t even have, by the way—but do you really think you’re going to find it in my underwear drawer?”

“Who says we mind looking through your Victoria’s Secret stuff?” Alex drawled, leaning on the doorframe. I scowled at him.

“I’ll try to stay out of that particular drawer,” Dylan promised, straightening. My sock drawer closed with a soft wooden thud.

I smiled, feeling my face twist a little more than it should have. “Thanks, I guess.” I didn’t like people in my room. It was mine, and everyone else was free to be eaten by the crocodiles that guarded the entrance.

If only, if only.

Alex hopped onto my bed and pillowed his hands behind his head. I recognized it as a pointless gesture devised only to irritate me, since his hands rested on my pillow.

It worked.

“Get off!” I snapped. Okay, it was more of a yell than a controlled snap. Sue me.

He gazed at me from beneath lazy lashes. I growled and reached across the bed to punch his arm—not hard, just enough to make my point.

It didn’t do a whole lot of good. My fist shot through his arm and bounced off the bedspread. I cursed, recoiling as the pain raced up my arm, and hoping he hadn’t noticed my little paranoid secret.

His eyebrows shot up. “Well, now—what have we got here? Something hard enough to hurt if you punch it?”

I glowered at him. So what if I kept my grandfather’s hunting knife under my pillow? It was smaller than my field hockey stick, and contrary to my family’s constant warnings, I had never hurt myself with it. (Of course, it was sheathed. Duh. Who’d be stupid enough to put an uncovered blade under their head every night?)

I cringed as he reached for my pillow. My hand drew forward, as if to snatch the knife out from under his hands. “Wait! It’s nothing—”

He tossed the pillow aside and grinned. I saw then that Alex was not someone who liked to lose. Even in this small triumph—beating me and finding what he’d come looking for—his eyes glowed with a predatory light.

I pitied any canaries that might have crossed him, literal or not.

“Waait a minute,” I said, my eyes narrowing, “How did you do that?”

He grinned up at me, the jerk-face. “Do what?”

“He’s like a poltergeist,” Dylan said as he moved to stand behind my right shoulder. If I turned my head just a smidge, I’d see him blow an errant bit of his black-as-freaking-dyed-black-hair out of his eyes. “He’s normally incorporeal, but he can move and touch things if he wants to. It takes a lot out of him, though.”

“Does not.” Alex frowned at him. “Do I look tired out to you? All I did was move a damn pillow.”

Dylan cocked a superior eyebrow. “I see you haven’t picked up the knife, though.”

I fidgeted, unable to contain my nerves. Theknifetheknifetheknifetheknife… should I go for it?

If I did… if I didn’t, and simply made a break for the door, would they come after me? They could cut off my escape if they wanted to, of that I was sure. But if I had the knife, I at least had a bargaining chip. I doubted I could hold off a wolf with a single knife. I would have needed an electric prod and a shotgun to do that.

I dove forward, arms outstretched. The leather sheath brushed my fingertips as I felt a giant arm wrap around my middle. “Shit!” I screamed as Dylan pulled me back. I shrieked and twisted wildly. My arms flailed, and my elbow caught him in the chest. He grunted and loosened his grip. I pushed against him and wiggled forward, trying to escape.

“Oof—c’mon Dani, don’t be like this—” Dylan attempted to sound soothing, but I found myself frightened almost beyond rational thought. I screamed again and thrust my knee up against his side and pushed until I tumbled free from his grip.

I landed half on the bed, half off. My knees thumped against the floor and my hands lashed out, trying to find purchase on the smooth bedspread. I ripped a few loose threads while stumbling to my feet.

The knife.

I launched myself at it again as Dylan climbed to his feet. This time, I rammed headfirst into his chest. “Shit,” I gasped again, reeling a little as stars danced around my head.

“Shit on a stick,” Alex agreed, sounding out of breath. It must have taken a good bit of energy to keep me from sailing through him. “You okay?”

My hands reached up to steady myself, but fell through his shoulders to return to my sides. He’d become translucent again.

“Yeah. I’m good.” I backed up a step or two, twitched as I bumped into Dylan, turned, and backed up in a different direction. I preferred to keep an eye on both of them.

Hopefully, there won’t be a next time. I nearly had a heart attack.

“You gonna go now?” I asked, still eyeing the knife. I kept my gaze discreet, but I knew they saw.

“You’re between us and the door,” Dylan pointed out.

A long silence stretched between the three of us. I felt like… not exactly a deer in headlights, but maybe an inexperienced predator. I did, after all, knock Dylan over.

I held out my hand. My face and voice remained bland. “Give it back.”

Alex sighed and shook his head, and Dylan pursed his lips. “We can’t,” he said.

“It belonged to my grandpa,” I said. “Give it back.”

“Dani—”

“Don’t call me that,” I said, my voice taking on an edge. “Give it back.”

Alex’s noisy sigh shattered Dylan’s pitying stare, the one he was using to try to make me understand why they wouldn’t give it back. “Look, we know it belonged to your grandfather, okay? His idiocy is the only reason we’re here.”

“Don’t call him an idiot,” I growled. “He was a good man.”

Alex refrained from matching my growl with one of his own. “Sure he was, but he did some stupid things, too.”

Godamnit, the one time I sink to his level, he takes the high road!

My outstretched hand dropped. “How do you even know my grandpa, anyway?” I challenged. “He wasn’t involved in any of those clans of yours.”

They glanced at each other, and the bottom dropped out of my stomach. My jaw clenched. “He wasn’t,” I snarled. He wouldn’t have kept that from his wife, would he? His kids?

He would have. My grandfather was a secretive man.

Alex said, “He was supposed to give it to someone who knew about the tribes before he died, but he didn’t.”

“He left it to my grandmother. She didn’t leave it to anyone.” I said. My face felt slack, expressionless. I didn’t look at them as I spoke. “Was he like you two? Could he turn into animals, too?”

They glanced at each other. “He was as human as you are,” Alex said.

“Would I have noticed if I wasn’t human?” It’s not like I’ve ever tried to turn into an animal…

“Yeah. You would have.”

I nodded and padded to the kitchen. I wasn’t hungry, but I needed something to do.

They followed me, Dylan a little more hesitantly than Alex. “Danielle—” Dylan began, then stopped. He shook his head. “I’m sorry about all this. You weren’t supposed to be home until later.”

“I know,” I said. He opened his mouth to say something else, but I shook my head and he closed it again. “Go away, please. You’ve got your trinket.” My only legacy.

“Danielle—” he tried again, but Alex elbowed him.

“Come on.” He nodded at me, and I jerked my chin in reply. I wasn’t feeling particularly gracious.

He led Dylan back through the apartment to the entryway. I listened until I heard my front door click shut behind them, then I kicked off my sandals, flopped down on the couch and turned on the TV.

Law and Order reruns were blissfully numbing after a long day.