Stone manages a breathy laugh, some of the tension bleeding from his tone. “No, I just need to worry about her skipping town on us sooner than we expected.”
Chapter 5
Amara
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Locked in the singlestall bathroom, I wring out another shirt above the sink, praying that my balled-up socks plugging the drain don’t get sucked down. Tossing it into the plastic grocery bag, I make quick work of my dirty laundry, daydreaming about the luxury of a washing machine. Ignoring the pounding on the door, I strip off my last clean outfit and set it on top of my backpack while I tackle washing myself next, awkwardly contorting myself to do a hasty shave job that leaves much to be desired.
“Next town, I’m getting a motel for at least one night so I can have a real shower and shave my butthole in peace.”
If there’s any money left,I cynically reply to myself, balancing survival with luxuries.I still need to find someone that can hook me up with a new identity, and that doesn’t come cheap. Heck, might even run double depending on who’s got a lock on the area.
With a defeated groan, I brush my teeth and slap on some deodorant, getting dressed. Slinging my backpack over one shoulder, I grab the plastic bag of damp clothes and unlock the door.
“Fantasies keep a person sane, not safe. I don’t need frivolous extras, nor can I afford them.”
Passing the line of grumbling people waiting for the bathroom, I stride out of the fast food restaurant without buying anything, my stomach growling painfully. Automatically, I step off of the sidewalk to walk on the edge of the street despite how thin the crowd is. It’s one of the main reasons I picked this small town to stop in; less people. While the big cities offer more anonymity, they make up for it in potential threats. Far more people out and about walking or biking compared to small towns where there’s nothing to do, so most people tend to hang out at parks, their friends’ houses, or go out to eat. Still, even a single person is one too many for my liking in an uncontrolled environment.
A faint fluttering of wings has me turning my head in time to witness the sharp claws dig into my backpack. Freezing completely, I stare at the gyrfalcon, waiting for it to fly away. Primarily white, its wings are bespeckled in black, and more alarmingly, its head is cocked, assessing me with equal scrutiny.
The murder bird is going to claw my face off, isn’t it?
It one hundred percent is going to eviscerate us, yep.
Before I can take more than two steps, it launches off of my backpack, and I breathe a heavy sigh of relief. Picking up my pace, I cross the street to the abandoned side, making it to the end of the block before there’s a heavy lurch of it landing on my bag again. Wetting my lips, I imbue confidence into my voice that I don’t remotely feel.
“One and only warning, buddy. Youwillregret it if you don’t fuck off.”
He doesn’t have to know that I’m completely bluffing. That internal sixth sense you have when you’re in danger is the only way to tell if you’re in the presence of another shifter unless they display some form of ability or flat out admit it, but the higher up you get on the power scale, the less any species below feels like a danger, registering the same to us as humans.
Me, though? I inherited all of the downsides of being born at the top of the food chain, but none of the benefits. No one registering as a threat to me, yet none of the badass, deadly abilities to back up my position. Not coming up as worth even a wary glance to other shifters, looking down at me like I’m prey. Enough static to charge my phone or make someone jerk their hand away, but unable to strike them down like my father made look as effortless as breathing. Hell, until Malcolm-
My mood sobers instantly.
It’s better this way, I suppose. My parents went to their graves thinking that I was a sign the curse was finally fading, and were able to take that hope with them to the afterlife so they could find some semblance of peace... even if they don’t deserve any. But that’s why my spiteful ass isn’t sitting in the cushy judge’s seat deciding people’s fates and is down here arguing with a bird in the middle of the street instead.
