J. Geissinger - Shadow’s Edge

Morgan’s derisive laugh made Jenna look over.

“Oh, please.” She made a face, just a dainty curl of her upper lip. She glanced at Leander then went on in a lighter tone. “Sommerley is just like any other small town, except it’s more...hidden away. I like to pretend it’s an exclusive resort, like an island retreat only a privileged few can visit.” She smiled, almost melancholy. “Which, I suppose, it is. There’s the main square and schools and shops and everything else you would expect in a town. It’s also vast dark forests and rolling green hills and a sky that goes on forever.”

She tossed a lock of dark hair over her shoulder and looked out the window. “I’ve been told it’s one of the most beautiful places in the world, but...” She shrugged, and her sad smile faded, leaving her face pale and somber. “I really wouldn’t know. I’ve got very little to compare it to.”

A sigh escaped her lips. “Anyway, everyone lives in their own homes, just like humans, except we have a lot more space. We’re not exactly pack animals, we need our own territories. The Alpha lives on the main estate with Christian and their sister, Daria—”

“The Alpha ,” Jenna interrupted, eyebrows arched. “That’s what you call Leander?”

Morgan regarded her with a look of cool, green-eyed amusement. “That’s what he is , Jenna.”

Ah, yes. It was sometimes very hard to believe that underneath that elegant, refined exterior beat the heart of a beast, a creature of vapor and fangs and stone-cold sorcery. She glanced over once again, forgetting for a moment her vow of indifference, and simply admired him.

“So he’s...the leader, then. He’s in charge?”

Morgan flicked an electric green gaze over Jenna. “Of course. You couldn’t tell?”

“And exactly how many of you...of us...are there? Why England? I mean, aren’t panthers from tropical forests?”

“Originally, we were, yes. Africa, the legend goes, though panthers can survive in any forested area with plenty of prey. I’m not privy to all the particulars because I’m a—” She checked herself and made a small, helpless gesture with her hand. “I never paid much attention to the tribe elders and their creation stories.”

Somehow Jenna didn’t believe that. “But why aren’t the Ikati everywhere then? Why are you three the only other ones I’ve ever met? Beside my father, I mean.”

A shadow of something Jenna couldn’t identify crossed Morgan’s lovely face. “Because unlike humans who breed like rabbits, many of the Ikati are infertile. Most of them, in fact. And it’s getting worse with every generation. Less than a half dozen colonies exist now, scattered throughout the globe. Nepal, Canada, Brazil, and Sommerley.”

“And Leander is Alpha of all of them?”

She smiled, amused. “I’m sure he wishes he were. But no, each colony is held together by an Alpha and an Assembly of their most powerful tribesmen.” Her smile deepened. “I would say tribes people , but as far as I know, I’m the only woman to ever serve on an Assembly.”

“And no one knows about any of it,” Jenna marveled. “You live right out in the open and no one can tell you’re different.”

Morgan’s smile vanished. “Not in the open. Never in the open. We can’t.”

“Why not? Wouldn’t it be easier, or better? Just to be...out, as they say?”

Morgan tilted her head and gazed at Jenna. Her eyes glittered in the dim cabin light. “It must be nice to believe human nature would be anything but cruel toward something so different from itself.”

Jenna felt vaguely insulted. “You never know. You might be surprised at how kind people can be. There’s a few bad eggs, sure, but overall—”

“For all your worldly ways, I’m afraid you’re more than a little naive,” she interrupted quietly. “There is nothing the human mind despises more than diversity, no matter what you’re led to believe. You are either the same, or you are Other.” Her voice went flat. “And being Other equals being the enemy.”

Jenna thought about all the nice people she’d known in her life, albeit none of them for very long. “I find that hard to believe.”

Morgan slanted her a look, gently scornful and sad. “You’ll just have to take my word on this one.”

A jolt as the plane touched down. Morgan’s hand flew to her throat.

Jenna frowned over at her. “What is it?”

She shook her head a little and swallowed, then waved her hand in the air, a dismissive gesture. “I hate flying. I feel so out of control—you can’t see anything.”

“Really? God, I love it,” Jenna replied. “We moved around so much as a kid I used to think we owned our own airplane. I’d always ask for the seat next to the window so I could look out at the clouds and pretend I was alone, flying free on the wind. My father used to tell me I had the soul of a bird.”

She paused, the memory of her father triggering the bitter taste of salt in her mouth. The taste of tears. “I always wanted to be a falcon,” she murmured. “Then I could just fly away and leave the world behind, all its secrets and misery.”

From the corner of her eye, Jenna saw Leander’s head come up and tilt in their direction.

“Well, it’s only my second time on an airplane,” Morgan said, leaning over to grab a small bag at her feet. “I’ll be glad when I can get my feet back on the ground.” She sat up and kept her eyes averted. Jenna sensed it was deliberate.

“Let me guess. Your first time was the flight out to L.A.”

Morgan’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. “I don’t really get out much,” she said, her voice shaded with quiet sarcasm.

The plane shuddered to a stop. In one swift movement, Leander unbuckled his seat belt and leapt to his feet. He moved silently through the airy corridor of the cabin toward the front of the plane and disappeared behind the galley wall.

“You can stop boring holes into the fuselage with your eyes now, Christian.” Morgan looked toward where he lay stretched out at the front of the cabin. She stood and gathered her coat and handbag. “We’re here.”

He turned his head and gave Jenna a long, searching look before standing. It was the same look she often saw Leander give her, and it made her flush in exactly the same way. She looked away quickly and concentrated on unfastening her seat belt and gathering her things.

She needn’t have worried about the car. By the time she, Morgan, and Christian made their way down the jet’s lowered steps to the wet tarmac below under enormous black umbrellas held aloft by the butler and one of the crew, Leander had been whisked away in one of the two sleek black limousines that waited just steps away.

“Ass,” Morgan muttered under her breath as she watched the smudged red taillights of his car disappear into the night. Tires slicked back rain in a spray that caught the light and turned it to a shower of rainbow crystals.

Jenna pretended to ignore the compression she felt within her chest as she watched his car speed away. She drew a deep breath, letting the dark, unfamiliar scent of wet peat, heather, and moss settle over her skin, permeate her nose. It was at once cool and inviting, familiar and alien.

“Well,” Christian said, standing just behind her. “All the more room for the three of us.”

He snapped his fingers and flashed a quick, hesitant smile at Jenna as a uniformed driver jumped out of the car. The driver rushed around to their side and opened the heavy black door of the limousine, then stood at attention, stoic and unblinking, not meeting any of their eyes.

Christian gestured to the open door, his eyes penetrating. “My dear lady,” he murmured. “After you.”