Hotbloods (Hotbloods #1)

I shuddered.

We continued at a slow pace, the shifter slipping and sliding along the icy surface. Suddenly, we jerked downward, as though the shifter had suddenly gained superhuman strength and was pulling the whole ship.

“What the—” Navan started. He peered out the window, his eyes widening.

A pack of wolves had appeared out of nowhere, it seemed, and were attacking the shifter, who was trying to out-maneuver them but failing. Suddenly, one of the wolves changed into a bird and flew up before dive bombing the shifter, its sharp talons spread.

“It’s a pack of shapeshifters,” Navan said, gritting his teeth. He threw the ship into neutral, and we hovered there, above the melee. He opened the door and yanked on the chain. “They’re going to tear that thing apart if we don’t get it up here.”

I got up to help him—the bird had changed back into a wolf, though a few of the wolves had changed into their regular form, like our shapeshifter, and they were tearing at its pink flesh.

“Why are they trying to kill it?” I stood behind Navan, pulling on the chain, leaning all my weight back.

“These things don’t care,” Navan grated out, giving the chain a hard pull. “Get me one of the guns, will you? Shifters don’t have any loyalty to each other. And they probably knew this one would give up their secrets to save itself.” He lunged forward and grabbed the shifter as it came level with the ship’s door. One of the wolves had clamped its jaw around the shifter’s foot; Navan leaned over and punched it in the nose. It changed shape as it fell, howling in pain. I handed him the gun, and he took several shots.

Navan slammed the door shut once the shifter was inside. It lay there, groaning, jagged lacerations running the length of its body.

“Great,” Navan said. “I guess you’re going to have to ride in here with us for the rest of the journey.”

I looked out the window and saw that the shifters had changed shape and were now all a flock of birds, with hooked beaks and talons.

“Uh, they’re still coming for us,” I said nervously.

Navan went over to where the weapons were stored and grabbed one of the rifles. I picked up one of the throwing knives and went over to the door. There were only a few of the birds left; the rest had been killed by Navan’s rifle shots. I took aim and let the knife fly. It spun end over end through the air, the blade sinking deep into the bird’s side, right below the wing. It plummeted, changing back to its original form as it landed on the ground in a lifeless heap.

Navan gaped at me. “Wow... That was . . .” He peered out the open door at the ground where the dead shifter lay in a widening pool of blood. “Impressive.”

We didn’t have much time to admire my knife-throwing skills, though, because the ship shuddered and dropped a few feet. My stomach flipped at the sensation.

“Something’s wrong with the ship,” I said, grabbing the steering wheel. I tried to steady it, but the ship shuddered again. “We’re going to have to land.”

Our landing was heavy, and the ship slid along the ice for several hundred feet before finally coming to a stop.

“This was really not part of the plan,” Navan said. He glared at the shifter. “You stay here.”

I followed Navan out of the ship. The exterior looked all right, but there was an acrid smell in the air and a billow of smoke rising from the back of it.

“That can’t be good,” I said. “I wonder if one of those birds got into the engine or something.”

“This seems to be a recurring theme,” Navan muttered. “Did I do something to deserve being cursed with all these broken-down ships? We don’t have time to fix this!”

“We don’t have much of a choice, though, do we?” I asked. “How are we going to get anywhere if the ship is broken?”

Navan sighed. “I guess we’ll have to comm the Fed for help. Who knows how long that’s going to take.”

“Maybe I could look at it. I am going to school for mechanical engineering.”

It was a stretch, I knew, to think that I could go from fixing the drive train on a bicycle to fixing whatever was wrong with this ship, but I wanted to at least try. I wanted to feel like I was actually contributing something to this mission, other than just being a liability that Navan had to worry about.

“You can try,” Navan said. “But I doubt even I could fix it, and I have experience with these types of machines. I think you’d have to be a magician, since we don’t have any parts. The Fed will have to supply us with the parts at least.”

There was a cackling, hacking sound, and Navan and I both turned toward it. The shifter had dragged itself to the door and was halfway leaning out of it.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Navan growled.

“You two are both fools,” the shifter said. “I can hear everything you’re saying.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not the one who’s chained up and bleeding,” Navan retorted. “So I suggest you shut up. Go make yourself comfortable—we’re going to be here a while.”

“Coldbloods always want to act a lot smarter than they really are,” the shifter said. “We’re basically here. It’s maybe a ten-minute walk.”

Navan narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

“Suit yourself,” the shifter said, “but you’re the one who’s going to end up looking like a fool if you sit around here waiting, only to find out you were right next to your destination.”

“Just go back inside!”

Navan waited until the shifter had disappeared back into the ship before he looked at me. “What do you think?” he asked in a low voice. “Do you think it’s telling the truth?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? Why would it lie about that?”

“It could be a trick. It might want to get us off the ship and in the woods so the others can attack us.” He frowned. “But the thing is right—I’d feel pretty stupid if the place we’re looking for really is right nearby.”

“Well,” I said, “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

Navan ran his hand over the lower part of his face and then took a deep breath. “You’re right. But I’m not going empty-handed. I’m going to take both of the guns. I think I saw a holster in there with the rest of the weapons. It’d probably be a good idea to have both guns with us.”

It was hard to read the shifter’s expression when we told it that we’d walk the rest of the way. It only swiveled its eyes back and forth and then nodded. “Maybe you’re not as stupid as you look,” it finally said.

Navan flicked the chain. “You’re staying on this,” he said. “And if this turns out to be some ill-conceived little trick of yours, you’re going to wish that group of shifters really had torn you apart. The first thing I’ll do is rub salt over each and every one of your cuts, and then I’ll—”

“Okay!” I said. “Why don’t we get walking?”