Page 8 of Shifting Tides

“Not vampires,” I practically yelled, throwing up my hands in exasperation. “They don’t exist.”

“Actually, that’s not true,” Shea said, her voice low. She couldn’t even meet my gaze when I turned to her.

I rolled my eyes. I knew Shea was into weird stuff, but now wasn’t the time for her to defend this psycho. I damn sure wasn’t buying into this bullshit. My mother’s dead body back at home wasreal, and I needed to do something about it.

“Let me out of the car,” I demanded, running my hand over the door panel in search of the lock.

“I can prove it to you,” Caesar growled, clearly getting frustrated.

“And how exactly are you going to prove to me that I’m a mermaid?” I asked, all sass.

“Mermaids aren’t the only shape-shifters in the world,” he said, harshly turning the steering wheel. “There are more species than you can imagine. For centuries, we’ve been hunted down by vampires, but we finally have a place where we can be safe from them.”

He reached back over his seat to hand me a business card. I scowled at it for a moment, then took it only because I was afraid to leave him driving one-handed for too long.

The card read “THE DOME,” and under that, “Academy for the Gifted.” As I read it, impossibly, the “G” turned into an “Sh” to read “Academy for the Shifted.”

I blinked hard several times, but the letters kept changing back and forth. If this was a prank, it was a very well-thought-out one. Beneath the words was an ornate insignia, a crest divided into four sections, each with a different symbol inside: talons, a wing, a spiral, and claw marks.

“Like I said earlier, I came here tonight to invite you to the school,” he continued as I inspected the card. “We don’t often get stray mermaids, so I knew it would be best for me to deliver the invitation personally. To explain to you who we are and why you should come to the school.”

He looked back over his shoulder. “Normally, initiates either grew up in families that are already affiliated with the school, or have begun to exhibit abilities that would make them aware of their status, so that they’re eager when we arrive to explain.”

“You keep saying ‘we,’” Shea said. “Does that mean you’re a shape-shifter too?”

I shot her a look that saidDon’t be ridiculous, but Shea’s focus was solely on Caesar.

“I am,” he said with pride.

“Shea, you can’t really believe all this,” I said.

“Actually, I do,” she said, still not meeting my gaze.

“Well, I don’t.” I shook my head, trying to rein in my frustration and desperation. “And I want no part of this sick game he’s playing with us. Please take me home so I can call the cops and find out what really happened to my mom.”

“I said I can prove it to you.” Suddenly, he pulled the car over onto the side of the road. Then he got out and yanked open my door, waving his hand in an invitation for me to get out.

I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t know what he was planning to do, but now was my chance to make a run for it.

I scampered out of the car, realizing we were on a long stretch of highway that led to Chicago. There was nothing but green fields around us for miles in either direction. It would be a long run back, if I even made it that far.

Shea hopped out after me, and it was clear that she had no intention of running. Her eyes were trained unblinkingly on Caesar. I stayed close to Shea so that I could grab her arm and drag her away if I had to.

Caesar walked a few feet into the grass and began unbuttoning his black shirt.

“What the?! Why are you stripping?” I shrieked.

“Just wait,” Caesar said with a hint of irritation in his voice.

He threw off his shirt and pulled down his pants, and I was now truly terrified of what he might be planning to do.

I grabbed Shea’s arm and squeezed, trying to tell her telepathically to escape with me now that his pants werearound his ankles. Shea didn’t get the message, and the momentum of my sudden tug on Shea’s unmoving arm caused me to trip to the ground.

I pushed myself up with my palms in time to see something that just wasn’t possible.

Caesar had transformed from a large, muscular man into an even bigger mythical beast. All over, his skin sprouted small brown feathers. His rugged face morphed, his nose and mouth growing and twisting into a huge black beak with a dagger-sharp tip. His hands and feet enlarged to smooth black talons that dug into the grass as he landed on all fours. And out of his broad back emerged the most magnificent pair of brown wings, unfurling and expanding, making the air crack with their power.

Standing before me was a gryphon—a beast of legend. This creature didn’t exist, and yet, here it was, not three feet in front of me, looking at me with Caesar’s golden-brown eyes.

---