Page 70 of Centaur Bolt

“You were fun as a guy,” the Satyr pouted again.

To my relief, it just looked childish this time. I planted a shaking hand over my eyes. “Promise me we will never speak of this again.”

“What?” She regarded me with wide eyes. “Why?”

“Promise me, Kiko. This did not happen.”

“But it did. And it wasfun.”

I pushed myself to a sitting position and glared at her. “It didnothappen.”

“But you seemed to enjoy it, too.” The Satyr appeared genuinely confused.

“I turned into a dude,” I ground out.

Her expression brightened. “I know. And what a dude.”

I spoke through clenched teeth. “How many females turn into male Dires? And then a male human? Do I have an alter ego I know nothing about?”

She frowned. “I’ve never heard of anything like that,” she admitted.

“Whatever the hell is going on with me, we need to keep a lid on this until I can figure it out. Okay?”

Kiko looked confused. “But—don’t you want to know why this happened?”

I focused on what was really important. “What I want to do, is find Marcus. Do you deny that this would freak Cara completely out?”

“Freak her out?”

“Make her panic and tell me not to Jump until she figures it out.”

“Well, it is a bit unusual—”

“This could completely derail my efforts to help Marcus. So I need you to promise me that you won’t say anything about me becoming a Dire. Or a dude.”

She bit her lip. “Okay. You said this happens only when you Jump?”

“Yep. Only I’ve never completely shifted before. Just my hands.”

“But the Jump worked! You came here. Only it took you longer than I thought it would. I almost ran back to the trail. Then I peered through the branches, and—well, there you were. Er—I mean, he was.”

If anything had happened to me, or rather, if the dude hadn’tbeenme, she’d have been too busy blowing a random dude to be of any help. I made a mental note tonotrely on a Satyr to be my only backup.

I hesitated, before admitting, “That’s because I didn’t come here first. Or rather, I came here, but not at this time.”

“What are you talking about?”

So I told her. And she grew very quiet.

“What are you thinking?” I finally asked.

She stood up. “I’m thinking I’d better go get you clothes.”

“But what about Jumping into the past?”

She shook her head. “I have no idea what to say about that. Time travel is supposed to be merely a myth. That you might be able to do that—it, ah, freaks me out, to be honest.”

I swallowed. Before I admitted, “It freaks me out, too.”

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