Shifters And Glyphs Page 3

  Sure enough, once I enter the living room, I find Elle and Alec camped out on our couch, pounding away on their keyboards. The backs of their heads are silhouetted against the flickering screen.

  “Hey, guys,” I say.

  Moving in unison, Elle and Alec hit Pause on the game, shift on the couch, and look over at me. I hate to admit it, but that move sends a little pang of jealousy through my stomach. While I’ve been spending more time with Knox, Elle has been doing the same with Alec. Unfortunately, Elle and Alec can only be friends. The reasons are a little sketchy, but it has something to do with keeping Elle safe from her evil stepfamily. Even so, Elle and Alec have become crazy-good buddies. I mean, Elle and I never move in unison like that.

  Hence, the jealousy.

  And then, there follows boatloads of guilt over being jealous.

  Ugh. Relationships are tough.

  “Hey,” says Elle. “You have a visitor in the kitchen.” She bobs her eyebrows, meaning This is a visitor of the significant variety. It always strikes me how Elle is the perfect embodiment of her fairy tale life template of Cinderella: she’s tall and slim with long blonde hair and big blue eyes. In fact, Elle could pass for a less curvy Cinderella Barbie, if only they made a thief and con artist edition.

  “I do?” My first thought goes to our supposedly perfect security system. “How did they get through the wards?”

  Sadly enough, Alec’s wards have been on the fritz lately. Instead of repelling humans, they’ve been attracting them right into the apartment. Once inside, the hapless mortals often get compelled to do weird stuff. For instance, Elle and I came home the other day to find our doorman cleaning our toilet. Not that I don’t appreciate the effort but … whoa.

  Alec shoots me a winning grin. “Believe it or not, my wards actually worked today.” He really does look like a surfer-dude version of Prince Charming, what with his yellow T-shirt, tanned face, and bright blue eyes. “Your guest knocked on the door, we opened it, end of story.”

  I scrunch up my face in confusion. “Who do I know that knocks?” Alec uses magic to transport in and out. Knox likes to lean on the intercom and growl until I open up. Elle knows all the codes. That’s pretty much my entire list of friends and family there.

  Elle bobs her brows some more. “Your mysterious visitor is none other than Colonel Mallory the Magnificent.”

  “What?” I take a half-step backward. “He’s here?” They both nod. “You should have texted me.”

  Elle shrugs. “The Colonel said not to bother you.” She lowers her voice. “Plus, we ordered the good Chinese, and he’s been chowing down in the kitchen. The guy was so happy, I didn’t want to disturb him.”

  I’d forgotten about the food smell. The good Chinese means we ordered from City Lights of Beijing. They have the best food in Manhattan, but unlike every other Chinese restaurant nearby, they take forever to deliver. So we save them for special occasions. I guess the night before school starting counts.

  My stomach growls. “I’ll go say hi and get some dinner.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” says Alec.

  “I want details later,” adds Elle.

  I roll my eyes, which is my way of saying, Of course, you’re getting details later.

  Moving in unison once more, Elle and Alec return their attention to their game. Time was, all of us were terrified of Colonel Mallory. And why wouldn’t we be? The Colonel had placed a sleeping curse on me. But a few months back, the Colonel was a huge help in the battle against Jules and his evil, undead minions, the Denarii. And since then, the Colonel’s been stopping by to visit every month or so. Mostly he uses fairy magic to transport in, but if the Colonel wants to use the door, there are no complaints here.

  As I step toward the kitchen, my inner wolf howls with rage. “No, no, no, no, no, NOOOOOOOOOO! No kitchen! That evil fairy cursed us both. I was trapped in a lockbox for years.”

  “Come on,” I reply in my mind. “You’ve met Colonel Mallory before.”

  My wolf lets out a series of yippy-whining noises in my head. She can be a little bit of a drama queen sometimes. “He cursed us.”

  “What are you, Gollum? The Colonel saved our lives.” My stomach growls again. “Let’s take a little breather here.”

  My wolf sniffs. “Fine. Talk to the evil fairy, but if you end up dead, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Sometimes, having a wolf in your brain is no fun. Time for a little magic. Closing my eyes, I tap into the golden power that makes me a shifter. This is one of the many new skills I learned from Az over the summer. That guy knows every shifter trick in the book. As I take control of the magic, a flush of gold mist moves across my skin. Shifter energy. Within seconds, my wolf quiets and goes into stasis. It doesn’t hurt her, and it gives us both a break. With my wolf under control, I march toward the kitchen.

  A snug white space, our kitchen holds a small number of appliances in one corner and a high-top table by the entrance archway. Colonel Mallory sits at the table, an array of white takeout boxes before him. As always, he reminds me of the actor Clark Gable from the movie Gone with the Wind. The Colonel even wears white suits with matching wide-brimmed hats. He looks up as I step into view.

  “Hey, now, if it isn’t Bryar Rose.”

  “Hello, Colonel.”

  His silver eyes narrow. “Something about you keeps staying the same.”

  “It’s my outfit.” I gesture across my cropped top and dark pants. “Got these from the fairies. They don’t shred when I shift.” I raise my pointer finger. “And they’re enchanted to clean themselves, too. Super handy.”

  “Enchanted clothing for shifters,” says the Colonel. “Wish I’d thought of that.” Using his chopsticks, he points to the array of white boxes. “Grab yourself some egg rolls. I know how your wolf likes them.”

  I slide onto the stool across from his. “She’s in stasis right now, but I like egg rolls, too.”

  The Colonel pauses, his chopsticks halfway to his mouth and dripping with lo mein noodles. “Is your wolf still frightened of me, sugar?”

  “She’s not really scared. It’s more the principle of the thing.”

  The Colonel sighs. This conversation always upsets him. “Your animal needs to understand; I simply had to hide your powers. Very few Magicorum can wield all three kinds of magic. You’re one of the Trilorum, and that’s very rare. The last one was recorded ages ago. But even with your magic locked up, Jules still found you. He was waiting until your powers got to their full extent on your seventeenth birthday, so he could, you know …”

  “Try to kill me and eat my brains?”

  “That. Even so, if he’d known how powerful you really were, Jules would never have waited. You’d have been too tempting a meal for him.” The Colonel pokes his white box of lo mein noodles. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was acting guilty.

  The Colonel stops poking at his food, but he doesn’t look up when he speaks. “Did Jules ever … well … say anything about me?”

  Correction. The Colonel is totally acting guilty about something. And since that something seems to be Jules, I lose my appetite.

  “No, Jules never mentioned you. Mostly, he pretended to be this loser Philpot who talked about money all the time.” I set down my egg roll. “What’s this about, Colonel?”

  “Oh, Bryar Rose.” The Colonel keeps right on staring into his lo mein box. It’s like we’re sitting a continent apart, even though we’re at the same table. “There’s no way to begin.”

  I slip off the stool and step closer. “Try.”

  At that moment, the cabinet under the sink starts to shimmy. The small white doors look ready to snap off their hinges. Since all we keep under there are Windex and cockroach traps, I can’t imagine what’s up.

  I point to the rattling doors. “Did you cast a spell there?”

  My words snap the Colonel back to attention. Turning, he spies the rattling doors and frowns. “Damned pixies. Crazy as March hares.”

 
; Pixies are literally pains in the neck, considering they love to bite. I’ve only seen a few of them, and that was at the parties my aunties threw. Pixies are small, angry creatures with speedy wings, green skin, and sharp teeth. Not sure why they’d want to hang out with my Windex and dead cockroaches.

  “Let me get this straight,” I say. “There are pixies under my sink?”

  “No, sugar. There are pixies trying to use the doors under your sink to transport here from the Faerie Lands.”

  “No way. We had this place warded again last week. I can’t believe they’re failing this fast.”

  “Sugar, right now, your wards are as useful as wings on a toad. No offense to that Alec boy. But everyone’s magic is off these days. Did you know I couldn’t transport here before? I had to knock on the door like a regular so-and-so.” He raises his arms. Silver fairy dust appears around his hands. “Let’s just take care of this here pixie problem.”

  I blink hard, trying to process this news. “Because a portal from the Faerie Lands is opening up under my sink.”

  “Why not? If they have enough power, the fae can turn any regular door into a portal to Faerie.”

  “I didn’t know that.” I frown. “My aunties never went to Faerie.”

  “Ah, your aunties never had much in the way of power. Takes some strength to open a door.” He shoots me a big smile. “I do it all the time, of course.” More silver dust gathers around his arms, forming clouds of gray magic.

  The door under the kitchen sink shimmies so violently, I’m surprised it doesn’t burst. “Should I get Elle?”

  “That would be a bad idea.” In Colonel Mallory-speak, a bad idea is another way of saying major catastrophe. “We can handle this.”

  Anxiety tightens my limbs. I’ve fought the fae before. Most recently, I went against Queen Nyxa in a lingerie store. Long story. But it’s never an easy battle. Fae are both powerful and unpredictable. The pair of little white doors under the sink rattles more violently than ever.

  Then they burst open.

  Pixies fly into the room. At first, the cloud of green bodies makes me think, This must be what a plague of locusts looks like. Only, locusts don’t have tiny humanoid forms, forest-green skin, or round heads filled with needle-sharp teeth. Also, locusts aren’t known for having tiny, feathered wings that flutter at hummingbird speeds. And they certainly don’t talk.

  As the pixies flood the kitchen, the horde chants, “Elle, Elle! We want Elle!”

  At this point, I have two choices. First, I could keep my wolf in stasis. That would mean she’d be definitely be asleep and, therefore, unable to attack pixies. But that would also mean she’d be asleep and unable to attack pixies. My shifter power is the only one I have any real control over.

  No question about it. I’m going with door number two: waking my wolf. I stir the shifter magic inside my soul. My inner animal perks right up.

  “Pixies!” she cries. “They want to play! Let’s go furry and tackle them all.”

  I tilt my head, considering this idea. It might work. “Let’s wait and see,” I reply.

  The cloud of pixies circles the kitchen a few times before rushing toward the exit archway. My heart sinks. No doubt about it: they’re heading straight for Elle and the living room.

  Colonel Mallory raises his arms and addresses the pixie horde. “Oh, no, you don’t.” There’s a growl to the Colonel’s voice that’s distinctly dragon-like, which makes sense, considering a large, black dragon is his shifter form.

  Interesting. The Colonel feels as protective about Elle as I do.

  Instantly, silver dust flies from the Colonel’s hands to coat the room in a metallic sheen. Hundreds of small, green bodies slam into an invisible barrier, stopping any chance of their leaving the kitchen. The pixies grumble and pound on the clear wall, all while making lewd hand gestures.

  “They can strike all they want, bless their evil little hearts,” says the Colonel. “Elle won’t notice a thing.” The Colonel winks. “I’m an expert on barrier spells with a stealth component.”

  “Good to know.”

  After a few seconds, the pixies pick themselves up and take to the air once more. The horde hovers by the kitchen ceiling while glaring at me and the Colonel.

  Their chanting starts again. “Elle! Elle! We want Elle!”

  Now, I knew Elle had some fairy magic. But she never got unwanted attention from random pixies before. Magic really is going haywire.

  The Colonel crooks his finger at me. “Come over here, sugar.”

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t warn Elle?”

  “Positive. My magic blocks all sound. We need to keep Elle well and truly out of this. You just saunter yourself over and stand by me. I’ll leverage an eentsy beentsy piece of your fae power, and this will all be over in a heartbeat.”

  One look at the enraged faces of the sharp-toothed pixies, and I don’t saunter over.

  I run.

  Chapter 4

  Hundreds of pixies hover by my kitchen ceiling. A sense of menace pours off them in waves as their hummingbird wings drive a gentle breeze through the room. Too bad it smells of bubblegum and dumpster juice. The scent makes my inner wolf go nuts.

  “Bite, bite, bite!” she cries in my soul. “Me want bite!”

  For the record, it’s never a good sign when my inner wolf starts talking like Cookie Monster.

  I stand beside the Colonel. “Do you still need power?”

  “A little boost would be welcome.” The Colonel gets super polite at the oddest times. “That still fine with you?”

  I grasp his right palm. The moment our hands touch, the fairy energy inside my soul goes berserk. In my mind, I picture the quicksilver strands as they spin and flow about each other in an elaborate whirl. It reminds me of a ball of yarn, only alive and glowing.

  “Thanks, sugar.” With those words, the spool of power unwinds inside me. As each thread becomes untangled, it disappears. No question where the power is going, either. A moment ago, only a thin layer of fairy dust surrounded the Colonel’s left hand. Now, that haze grows heavier. Within a few seconds, it’s impossible to see the Colonel’s arm at all.

  “Y’all need to go home now,” announces the Colonel.

  “No! No! We want Elle!” chant the pixies.

  You have to give it to them. The pixies have a goal here.

  “Last warning,” adds the Colonel.

  The chants of “Elle, Elle, we want Elle!” turn deafening. Wincing, I set my left ear against my shoulder—since my left hand is still clasping the Colonel’s—and press my right palm against my right ear. It helps a little, but dang, those pixies can screech.

  “Buh-bye,” says the Colonel. He sets loose the power from his left hand. The fairy dust congeals in midair, taking the shape of a massive net. It reminds me of the kind for catching butterflies—the net has a little round O at its opening and a super-long sack behind. The big difference here? This butterfly net is large enough to catch an adult, is made of shiny silver fairy magic, and hovers around my kitchen ceiling.

  Welcome to my world of weird.

  The Colonel snaps his fingers. The net swoops across the ceiling, scooping up all the pixies.

  The Colonel grins. “Not too bad, considering how crazy magic has been.” He turns to me. “Now, see those tiny sink doors the pixies came though?”

  “Hard to miss,” I reply.

  “You just hold them open while I send this here net through. After that, we’ll be done with this entire business.” He gives my hand a squeeze. “And thanks for the extra energy.”

  “No problem.” I release his hand and head toward the kitchen sink. I’m not two steps away from the Colonel when it happens. All the fairy mist around the Colonel vanishes.

  The net falls apart.

  Large swaths of silver fabric waft to the ground.

  My breath catches with fear.

  Uh oh. The pixies are free.

  Even worse, the little monsters are angrier than ever. T
heir round, green heads splotch red with rage. The pixies chatter away, mostly about how they still want to see Elle.

  “Blast it all.” The Colonel wipes his forehead with a white handkerchief. “I must’ve needed your power more than I thought.”

  What happens next takes seconds, but every fraction becomes embedded in my memory. Turning on his heel, the Colonel rushes to stand beneath the exit archway. Spinning, he presses his hands against either side of the arch. His normally calm features wince with effort. Meanwhile, the pixies race toward the exit—and the Colonel—in a great blur. I don’t see individual faces so much as flashes of pointed teeth and tiny claws.

  Out of reflex, I race toward the Colonel. My heart pounds so hard, I feel my pulse in my neck. Hundreds of pixies slam into both Colonel Mallory and the barrier keeping those little green buggers in the kitchen. The Colonel’s invisible barrier bows under the force of the pixie attack, but it holds. After that, the pixies go after Colonel Mallory instead. They bite his arms and scratch his face. Blood drips down the Colonel’s cheeks and seeps through the fabric of his white suit. The coppery scent of blood fills the air.

  Rage corkscrews through my limbs. Colonel Mallory saved me. How dare they attack him? Curling my hands into fists, I call upon my inner shifter power. Threads of golden light pulse through my soul. A haze of magic surrounds me.

  My wolf bursts out of my skin. The motion is instant and painless.

  Before I know it, I’m all white fur and red fury. All conscious thought leaves my head, save for one idea.

  Stop the pixies.

  Leaping forward, I bite into pixie after pixie, flinging them off the Colonel. At the same time, my claws skewer even more of the little creatures and toss them away. In the process, I slam into cabinets and tear through the floor. Dishes crash from their shelves. Glasses shatter everywhere.