Page 13 of Enemies By Fate

“I didn’t.”

Dumbfounded, we all stare at her, including Malachi, whose disbelief is palpable now. “You didn’t?” he echoes. “And you claim you’re not a witch?”

Miserably, she drops her head. “I didn’t even know I could shift until last year,” she confesses.

Worried, all three of us back up.

“How old are you?” I ask nervously.

“Twenty-two.”

More confusion floods the boardroom as we try to make sense of what she’s saying.

“I don’t understand,” Warrick growls in annoyance. “Then you’re a witch.”

“I thought I was a witch… or human, maybe?”

This conversation is making me more uncomfortable by the second.

“How the hell is that possible?” Now Warrick is just as suspicious as Malachi, and I’m not sure I blame either of them. None of what she says makes sense. She should have shifted on her fifteenth birthday if she's a shifter.

“All I know is that last year, I touched a shifter and became his animal form upon contact.”

Warrick’s jaw slacked, and he stepped back, as Malachi and I recoiled in unison. “Are you saying you absorb others’ powers?” I breathe, awed and slightly unnerved.

Poppy crosses her arms over her chest, the blanket falling from her shoulders, and I see she’s still shaking. A part of me wants to put my arms around her and stop her from trembling, but of course, I don’t dare.

“We need to put her back in the underground cells,” Malachi mutters, putting space between himself and her now, a steely eye firmly on her. “She’s dangerous.”

“No,” I counter slowly.

“What the hell do you mean, no?”

“We can’t let her out of our sight,” I reply, my own gaze fixed on her for a reaction.

She’s so pale, I’m sure she’s going to faint.

“We’ll have a guard watch her day and night,” Warrick agrees. “But until we figure out what she is, we can’t let her go.”

“I’m right here!” Poppy barks out. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here.”

I’m vaguely amused by her fire, but Malachi isn’t. “Mind your tone,” he spits. “You forget whose company you’re in.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” she mutters, her eyes narrowing. “I know exactly what kind of company I’m in.”

Curious by her animosity, I turn back to her, sliding back onto the table to peer at her. “Did you come to confront us?” I ask, trying to put the pieces of her arrival together. “You appear to have a problem with us.”

She snorts again, but tears of panic fill her eyes. “You could say that,” she growls.

“Well, sweetie, here’s your big opportunity,” Malachi laughs sardonically. “Why don’t you get out all your grievances before we decide what we’re going to do with you, hm?”

Warrick says nothing, but we wait with bated breath for Poppy to speak.

“Well?!” Malachi thunders, flying toward her again. “Are you going to spit it out or?—”

“You murdered my father!”

Startled, we look at one another, the revelation not earth-shattering in itself. Poppy would not be the first shifter to come seeking revenge for some perceived slight. Unfortunately, none of us have any idea who her father is.

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