The gusts of rushing air steal my gasp. A talon wrapped around each of my biceps keeps me suspended in air.
Sucking in a lungful, I ready myself to let out a scream, but before I can release it, we bank hard and the exclamation lodges itself in my throat.
We soar through city streets and take corners so quickly, I’m sure we’re going to crash into the side of a building. Craning my neck, I confirm I’m in the clutches of a giant bird. Its wingspan alone is easily twice the length of my body.
I struggle against its hold to no avail.
I’ve survived my entire life completely alone in this split reality, but I’ve never seen anything close to what I witnessed today.
People appearing in the spectrum world with the same glowing aura as me.
Battles between the shadow beasts I’ve spent my whole life either hiding or running from.
Giant animals that understand English.
My head aches from more than the knocks it has taken. If I make it through this day alive, I’m going to find an underground bunker somewhere to live the rest of my life out in seclusion. Somewhere I can exist free of this terror.
I swallow a scream as we bank and swoop toward the ground. A couple more feet and my toes will skim the pavement in an industrial neighborhood I recognize. I spent several winter nights in one of the abandoned buildings here.
There isn’t a single human aura in sight.
“Let me go, you overgrown turkey!” I yell at my captor.
An angry caw answers, followed by a violent shake that rattles my already jumbled brain.
When this bird lets me go, I am going to kick its feathered butt from here to next weekend.
Our speed slows and I notice a white van idling about a block ahead.
Oh gosh, it’s a cliché kidnapper van.
A couple of people with pulsating white auras stand close to it. I can’t make out their features beyond identifying a dark-haired male and female. The guy is leaned up against the kidnapper van, doing something on his phone. The girl is pacing.
“I’m serious!” I shout at the bird. I would bet money it can understand me, and I’m willing to annoy it into dropping me. “If you don’t let me go, I’m going to hunt you down and make sure you’re the centerpiece of my Thanksgiving meal! All that fat I see on you will make a juicy—ahhh!”
I’m falling.
I don’t have time to release a scream before my feet connect with the unforgiving pavement several car-lengths ahead of the white van.
I try to duck into a roll, but I’m not fast enough.
I stupidly hadn’t actually expected or prepared to be released when I was conducting my verbal assault on the flying brute.
My legs crumple under me right before my side slams against the asphalt. The momentum throws my legs over my head, and I end up doing several awkward rag-doll flops before I stop moving.
The back of my head cracks against the ground on the last roll.
I lay spread eagle in the middle of the road, convinced every bone in my body is broken.
My vision swims. The telltale sparks of light sputter on the edges of my eyesight before condensing in the middle and petering out, alerting me I’m back in the real world.
Everything hurts.
I’m going to skin that bird.
The sound of feet pounding against the ground grows louder as the seconds tick by.
“Steel! What were you thinking?” That musical voice is vaguely familiar and very annoyed.
“She called me a fat turkey.” I hear, rather than see, the shrug in his words.
“I don’t care if she called you Big Bird. You don’t just drop someone from the air. She’s hurt!”
A blurry face appears above me at the same time someone else blows out a harsh breath. A car engine revs in the distance.
I blink twice before Karen’s concerned features register—my mind is understandably sluggish.
“Are you okay?”
That was a dumb question. Of course I’m not okay.
Another head pops into view. He’s blocking the sunlight, so his features are shrouded in darkness. I squint up at him, but his face won’t leave the shadows.
“She’s going to be fine. You know how fast we heal. Besides, if she hadn’t run from us, none of this would have happened.”
“Steel,” Karen snaps at the guy.
“What?” He holds up his hands, all earnest innocence. “I got her to safety, didn’t I? Where’s my thanks?”
What. A. Jerk.
I strain my arm muscles, fully intending to show him my favorite finger, but it hurts too much to move. I have to settle for a scathing glare that he doesn’t even catch.
I don’t know how he did it, but I’m pretty sure this dude shape shifted into a bird and dropped me on purpose.
“Get in the car. We’ll discuss this back at the academy.”
He shrugs and straightens.
Good riddance.
Karen captures my attention once again. She opens her mouth to speak but is cut-off by a surprised exclamation from Bird Boy.
“Sable, her hair!”
Sable?
Karen reaches forward and snatches a lock of my light blonde, red-tipped hair.
Somewhere along the way, I lost the hat. Not surprising when you’re running for your life, getting thrown into cars, and flown through the city all before being unceremoniously dumped on the street by a giant bird.
“I didn’t know if I should believe it.” The words are just above a whisper, as if she’s speaking to herself. She rubs the strands between her fingers.
“Could she have dyed it?” My blurred vision snaps back to the guy . . . Steel.
Moving my head, bad idea. It feels like the percussion section of a really bad high school band is banging away up there.
“We can’t dye or bleach our hair,” Karen responds absentmindedly.
The guy shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I know that. But what else makes sense? Her eyes are freaky enough. This is just going to make her stand out more.”
“Hey . . . you’re freaky,” I croak. I slam my lids shut over my very-not-weird dark blue eyes as a wave of nausea overtakes me.
“Shoot.” Karen’s concerned voice is back. “I’m sorry. Let’s get you up.”
“No. Lie here . . . and die.” Unless someone is going to knock me out for good, I’m not moving.
Steel emits a short laugh.
“Come on, help me get her up. We need to get her in the car. Drake has it running.”
Oh right, I’m being kidnapped. I almost forgot.
Do I even care anymore?
I think about that for a moment while footsteps shuffle around me. When hands reach under me and force me to stand, I decide that yes, I still very much care about being taken against my will.
I smother a whimper as I’m pulled to my feet. Groggily opening my lids, I concentrate on pushing energy into my right arm.
I learned to fight dirty a long time ago. Life hasn’t afforded me the luxury of honor.
Almost blindly, I strike out at the blurred figure in front of me. Even more of my vision has dimmed, but I’ll worry about that later.
There is a pain-filled grunt a moment before hot agony radiates down my fist and shoots down my arm.
I welcome the pain, because it means I connected solidly.
As hoped, the hands holding me fall away.
My victory is short-lived as I attempt to stumble-run away, only to find myself upside down over someone’s shoulder a hot second later. I stare down at a familiar pair of worn boots from my topsy-turvy perch.