Red Sun (The Shifter Chronicles 14) Read online

  He recited the Lord’s Prayer in Italian. He felt closer to his papá as he did so. After that, his eyelids dropped, and he curled up into a tighter ball, wanting nothing but sleep.

  An unknown time later, light blasted into his eyes, and Raphael bolted upright with a yelp.

  “What the hell, kid?”

  Raphael raised a hand to block the light. After blinking several times, he realized two campus security officers were staring down at him in surprise.

  “Sorry! I’m sorry.”

  The one to wield the flashlight moved the light before gripping Raphael’s arm and tugging him to his feet. The beast surged up and Raphael moaned, bowing over as his stomach cramped and his muscles heated.

  “Shit, you gonna puke, kid?”

  The other officer sighed. “I’m tired of dealing with the drunk ones.”

  “Run! You have to—” A sinister growl issued from his throat and both officers stepped back.

  “What the fuck?”

  Raphael felt himself slipping away and couldn’t stop the beast from taking full control.

  “Run!” he managed to yell one more time before losing all awareness.

  When next he knew anything, he was naked, shivering in the chilly night air, and covered in blood. He whimpered and sat up, tears clogging his throat and the taste of blood ripe in his mouth. His stomach rebelled and he vomited.

  He’d killed them.

  He’d killed them.

  Not only was he possessed by a beast but now he was a murderer.

  God help me!

  Disoriented, Raphael looked around. He didn’t know where he was. It was too dark for him to recognize any structures, and he was too weak to investigate further. Dizzy, he lay down and curled into the fetal position, the blood drying on his skin. Not for the first time, he wondered if he should end it all. But then he would be damned to hell. He was Catholic and that just wasn’t something he would do. There must be another solution.

  “Can I go home now?” he whispered, shivering.

  The angry growl made him cry.

  “I hate you.”

  A mournful howl echoed in his mind and he prevented himself from releasing it into the darkness by clenching his jaw.

  It was dawn when Raphael woke, surprised he’d managed to sleep. He sat up and cringed at the gore covering him. He didn’t consider it too closely and ignored his small pool of vomit. He needed to get clothes and clean up without being noticed. He realized he was in a narrow alleyway, and from the smell emanating from the dumpster, he guessed the buildings were restaurants.

  A soft sound caught his attention, and he blinked at the large cat staring at him. His eyes widened. That was one big housecat. And so beautiful! This one was hefty, but slinky with big ears and equally big green eyes. As the sun rose steadily, he could see the cat had silver, black-spotted fur.

  “Wow,” he whispered.

  The cat sat staring at him for a long, poignant moment before stepping closer.

  “Hey kitty,” Raphael said. He lowered his hand cautiously and held it out for the cat to inspect.

  Upon seeing it, he winced, once again reminded what the beast had done. Blood was caked on his arm and under his fingernails. The cat paused and stretched his neck forward, sniffing at his fingers. Then he jerked back as if punched and hissed, showing small pointy teeth.

  Raphael flinched and huddled tighter into himself. “I won’t hurt you.” Tears choked his words. “Non sono un mostro. I swear to God I’m not a monster.”

  Overcome, Raphael sobbed, face pressed against his knees. Not even a cat trusted him! Why was he being punished? What had he done to earn God’s wrath? Why was he cursed?

  It was a long moment before soft fur touched his arm, accompanied by a deep purr like a well-tuned engine. He lifted his head and realized the cat was rubbing his head against his arm. Raphael sniffed, reached over and scratched the cat’s head. The cat arched into the touch, still purring.

  “You’re a good kitty,” he said with a wobbly smile. “You’re a pretty kitty.”

  The cat regarded him with those hypnotic eyes, whiskers twitching. Such intelligence in his gaze.

  “I’m not bad, you know?” he said. “I can’t be all bad if you don’t hate me.”

  The cat set his front paws on Raphael’s thigh and lifted himself up until their faces were level. Then the cat leaned forward and surprised Raphael by licking the tip of his nose with his rough tongue. Raphael jerked with a watery laugh.

  “Whoa, what was that for?”

  The purring continued as the cat climbed into Raphael lap and settled there, his body heat a wonderful thing. Raphael resituated himself, taking care of his genitals, before wrapping his arms around the cat, taking comfort from his warmth and gentleness.

  As the sun rose higher and the day grew warmer, Raphael was surprised to realize the beast didn’t mind the cat in the least. Not a snarl or growl came from the monster inside him. It seemed to hate humans but the cat had apparently earned its approval. Whatever the reason, Raphael was grateful. He didn’t want to hurt this cat. He didn’t want to harm anyone else.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he whispered in Italian into the cat’s fur. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

  It wasn’t long before his protesting stomach could no longer be ignored. Raphael set the cat aside and approached the dumpster, aware of his nakedness. He lifted the lid and breathed through his mouth. The rising heat of the day did the garbage no favors. He’d be lucky if he didn’t get horribly ill from whatever was in there.

  “Meow!”

  The sharp sound caused Raphael to jump along with his heart. He swung his head around to stare at the cat as it gazed at him with apparent disapproval. And why did the feline’s eyes appear to be glowing? Must’ve been the sunlight.

  “What? I have to eat something. I can’t catch birds and mice like you can. If you’re hungry, go do that.”

  The cat flicked his tail, sitting with an air of royalty.

  Raphael picked through the garbage, distressed to find nothing remotely worth the risk to eat. Sighing, he lowered the dumpster lid and rubbed his stomach.

  “This is your fault, beast,” he whispered. “Are you trying to kill us?”

  The beast snarled.

  Raphael scowled.

  The cat bumped against his leg, distracting him. Blood transferred to the cat’s pristine fur, and Raphael loathed to see it.

  “Stop that.” He stepped away. “You’re getting my grossness on you.”

  Determined, the cat trotted over to him and continued to rub himself against his legs.

  “Il gatto pazzo. That’s what you are.”

  Noise near the mouth of the alley had Raphael scrambling behind the dumpster. The cat followed him. He squeezed the cat in his arms, his heart racing. He didn’t want to hurt anyone else.

  Behave yourself! he told the beast silently.

  It growled.

  Raphael peeked around the corner of the dumpster to see who the newcomer was. By the uniform he realized it was a restaurant worker. He curled into a smaller ball, though conscious of the cat, and thought invisible thoughts. The beast rose painfully in his mind, giving him a headache, and stayed here, alert to the intruder’s movements.

  The restaurant employee opened the dumpster, deposited the bag, then shut it.

  The cat meowed.

  Raphael flinched in shock and betrayal before scowling at the cat eyeing him. The beast growled darkly.

  The employee startled as well and leaned over to see where the sound had come from. The young man’s eyes widened, and he jumped back in shock. He gaped at Raphael, and Raphael knew he made quite the spectacle. Would he call the police? Lord, he hoped not. The beast would come forth for sure if that happened and then truly all hell would break loose.

  The beast snarled and the cramping started in earnest.

  “Go, quickly,” Raphael said, voice strained, doing everything he could to battle back the urge to morph.

>   The man blinked a few times before focusing on the cat.

  “Meow!” Then the cat made a strange series of chortling sounds, then meowed again.

  The man frowned and nodded. Confused, Raphael considered the worker’s retreating back before considering the cat.

  “What was that about?”

  The cat purred and rubbed his nose against Raphael’s cheek. When Raphael tried to dislodge the cat from his lap so he could leave—though where would his naked ass go?—the cat sank his claws into Raphael’s leg. He yelped and shoved at the cat. The cat hissed but didn’t move. Raphael didn’t see any blood but that hurt.

  “Stupid cat.”

  Then the restaurant worker returned, much to Raphael’s surprise and fear. He held out a sack weighed down with items. Still confused, Raphael hesitantly grabbed the bag, watching the restaurant employee the entire time. The second he took it, the man spun on his heel and fled.

  This time the cat leapt off his lap when Raphael tried to move him. He opened the sack and… “What the—?”

  Clothing, shoes, bottled water, even a couple of Styrofoam containers holding food. And, amazingly, a washcloth with a bar of soap.

  Gaping, Raphael gazed at the cat who appeared to be amused and smug about the entire incident.

  “Mrrr.”

  “What just happened?”

  The cat chirped.

  “You’re now my good luck charm.”

  The beast didn’t growl or snarl, so Raphael figured it agreed.

  Chapter Three

  Ahmes didn’t know what to make of this young man and yearned to learn his story. To say he was fascinated and curious would’ve been an understatement. He’d never smelled such a peculiar scent before, on either shifter, human, or animal. It was darker, richer, and not fully human or shifter.

  Ahmes flicked his tail as he gazed out of his cat’s eyes while the young man scrubbed the blood off his pale skin before yanking on his clothes. José was one of his sister’s mates, and his clowder owned the Thai restaurant. Ahmes knew his sister would demand answers when word got around but he couldn’t worry about that now.

  They always kept spare clothes on hand for the occasions when a fellow shifter needed them, since only a rare few could shift while still clothed. The simple interaction with José and the utter confusion of his young companion told Ahmes that the man didn’t know what he was. He didn’t know he was a shifter.

  Although Ahmes had never encountered a shifter like him before, either.

  “Okay, gatto, come here,” the man said as he knelt in front of Ahmes and gently wiped off the blood that had transferred to his fur.

  The kindness and obvious loneliness and distress in the young man’s pretty face were heartbreaking. He was sallow with fatigue, and his eyes showed barely contained misery. It was hard for Ahmes to remain in his cat form. He wanted to help him desperately, the nurturer inside him rising to an unbearable degree. Where was his family? Did he have any? What had happened to him that he would smell so strange? There were a few times he’d mumbled under his breath as if speaking with someone only he could see or hear. Did he have an untreated mental illness?

  The fair looks of his companion put Ahmes in mind of cherubs. And yet the misery etched into his face made Ahmes think he was more like a fallen angel. A lost one.

  “You can’t be a street cat,” Angel said as he sat back on his heels. He couldn’t get all the blood out of his blond hair, even with water and soap and needed a good shower to scrub himself clean. Ahmes could still smell the death surrounding him. At first, he’d been afraid, thinking he’d encountered a rogue shifter. Now he simply sensed fear and helplessness.

  “You’re too well-groomed.” He scratched Ahmes’s head and that sent him purring again. “But you don’t have a collar.” He sighed. “I’d love to keep you with me or help you find your home, but I can’t do either. You’d be better off away from me.”

  He grabbed the food in the containers and wolfed it down with speed that left Ahmes impressed and concerned. How often was he eating?

  Angel guzzled the remaining water before tossing the bottle into the dumpster. He pulled up the hood of his hoodie, hiding the blood in his hair.

  “Meow.” What would he do now?

  “Go home, gatto.” Then he stood and crept toward the mouth of the alley. There was more activity on the street and sidewalk now, and one glance at Angel’s face told Ahmes he had no clue where he was going or what he was doing. The lost expression sent a pang through his heart. He had to help him. Ahmes wanted to enfold him in a hug and tell him that everything would be all right. Members of his clowder used to tease him that he was too affectionate and docile to be descended from Sekhmet, the lion goddess of Ancient Egypt, or Her other persona, the surprisingly fierce Bastet.

  “Meooow!”

  Angel jumped and scowled down at him. “Go away! I don’t want to hurt you!”

  Then he turned and walked down the sidewalk, taking extra care to avoid touching anyone. Ahmes sniffed before trotting along behind him. He needed a plan. He needed to somehow show Angel that he was a shifter without scaring him away. Perhaps together they could find out what was wrong with him and why he smelled strange. He could’ve been an orphan and had never been told he was a shifter. That might’ve caused him to fight with his ba, or primal spirit. Imbalance was a terrible, unhealthy affliction.

  He needed to follow Angel to see where he’d hole up for the night. Then hurry back to his vehicle and find him before sunrise. It would be a delicate balance between informing and reassuring. If Ahmes was good at one thing, it was finding his akh, or keeping things balanced.

  Angel walked a good way down the sidewalk, passing store after store, until he stopped abruptly and stared at a small church across the street. He reached up and grabbed at something on his chest before seeming to realize he wasn’t wearing anything other than his shirt and hoodie. Fierce pain radiated across his face for a moment. Then he closed his eyes, shook his head, and turned away. It appeared to take him a lot of effort to turn his back on the church.

  Then he stumbled into a bookstore.

  Was he religious? Perhaps he used to wear a cross? That might explain his mannerisms. And maybe he thought the ba inside him wasn’t natural? By Bastet’s left paw, the imbalance in Angel was painful to witness. Why had he gone into the bookstore? Ahmes waited outside. He hoped Angel didn’t steal anything.

  Several people noticed him and either pointed or approached to pet him carefully. He allowed it, his cat preening from the attention. It amused him to see Angel’s startled reaction upon seeing him when he left the store.

  He gaped before his shoulders slumped and he shook his head. “Not getting rid of you, am I? Like I said before. Il gatto pazzo.”

  “Mrrr.” Ahmes rubbed against his legs and Angel chuckled. It warmed Ahmes’s heart to hear the sound, despite how rusty it seemed. Angel scratched him behind the ears before picking him up. He rarely allowed himself to be manhandled but with Angel he didn’t mind. Interesting.

  Angel tucked him close to his chest and rubbed his cheek against Ahmes’s head as he continued to walk down the sidewalk.

  “You’re the first friend I’ve made in years,” he whispered.

  “Meow.” Ahmes purred and rubbed back.

  Angel sniffed. “I’m cursed, you know? I can’t go home. It won’t let me go home.”

  It?

  Ahmes twisted his head around to stare at Angel’s face.

  “I thought it was a demon. My dad thinks so. I don’t know anymore. Prayers and holy water don’t make it leave. It just stays put, tormenting me.”

  Misery darkened his bright eyes, and Ahmes purred even louder, rubbing his head all over Angel’s face, his neck. His heart ached at Angel’s pain.

  Angel carried him a little longer before setting him down. “You’re freaking heavy.”

  Ahmes trotted beside him and tried not to be too disapproving when Angel searched a dumpster again. His own sto
mach rumbled and a faint squeaking under the bin had him slinking forward and pouncing. After they both ate a quick lunch, Angel took them to a small café and sat in one of the farthest tables from the building and other patrons. Ahmes hopped up onto the other chair, and Angel scooted his over until they were side-by-side. He scratched Ahmes’s head, much to his cat’s delight. And his own. He was beginning to enjoy Angel’s touch too much.

  “I have no idea what I’m going to do,” Angel said. “The beast won’t let me go home. But I can’t live like this forever. It doesn’t even tell me what it wants me to do. It just growls and snarls. It’s so grumpy.”

  That’s what happens when you haven’t found your akh, Ahmes thought. Angel’s words convinced Ahmes that he was dealing with a ka, the human spirit, and a ba, the primal spirit, that weren’t communicating. They were fighting with each other.

  They were eventually shooed away by the café’s proprietor. Angel went from one eating establishment to another, and once or twice managed to either steal unattended leftovers from tables, or a couple of restaurant workers gave him scraps, which he accepted with painful humility and gratitude. As it grew darker and the businesses closed, Angel curled up on the stoop of a tax office, and Ahmes once again lay on his lap, warming him.

  “I don’t remember my mamma. Not really.” Angel nuzzled Ahmes. “Snatches of words, I guess. Touches. Sometimes she’s in my dreams.” He sighed. “It was just me and my papá. He taught me everything I know. He’s so smart. I still think he’s the smartest man in the world. But even with everything he knows, he can’t figure out what’s wrong with me.”

  There’s nothing wrong with you. Ahmes pressed against Angel’s chest. What is your name? I want to know your name so badly.

  “I was fifteen when he locked me away. When I stopped going to school. I tried to keep in contact with my friends but they all assumed I was in Italy and.... My papá did the only thing he could. I don’t resent him for locking me up. I really don’t. The beast inside me can’t be trusted. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I’ve read a lot though. He always brought me books and movies and let me watch amazing documentaries about everything in the world.” Angel’s eyes welled with tears. “I miss him.”