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“Rachel!” Zach shouts, tears streaming down his face. “Don’t you die.”
Keenan sits back, breathing heavily.
Rachel gazes up at us in confusion.
As gently as possible, I pick her up and hold her to my chest. “You’re going to be okay.” I hand her to Zach, who takes her, cradling her. “You should take her out of here.”
Keenan helps Zach stand and points toward the nearest exit. “Take her to a vet who’s worked with shifters before.”
Zach leaves with Rachel and we look around at the chaos. Relief hits me hard as paramedics rush through the door. I look up at Keenan. “What happened?”
“A bomb. It was ASHRA,” he says grimly, pulling me into his side. “Lennox is in my head. He says they’ve already claimed responsibility in a video message uploaded to social media.”
I stare around at the carnage, tears filling my eyes. “What kind of a message can they possibly hope to send by hurting so many innocent people?”
“Look at them,” Keenan says, holding me tight.
I do as he says, though it’s hard. Many of the people left in the theatre are too injured to leave. Some are unconscious, maybe dead. Others have been maimed. Then I realize what he’s talking about. At least a dozen shifters are in the mix, some injured, some not.
“The urge to shift during extreme events is strong,” Keenan explains. “It’s a protective instinct.”
“Why didn’t you shift?”
“Because I’m older and more practiced than most.” He takes my hand, pulling me with him. “It’s time to leave. I think the professionals have it under control.”
As we make our way out, climbing over rubble to reach the exit, an agonized yowl catches my attention. “Keenan, there’s someone under here.”
He lifts the ceiling beam I point at and tosses it aside. I drop to my knees next to an injured lynx. It looks at me blearily, then hisses, trying to back away. “I won’t hurt you.” I reach for it, allowing it to sniff me, before pulling it out of the rubble and holding it to my chest. Looking around, I say, “We need to find someplace safe.”
Keenan wraps his arm around my shoulders, leading me while I cradle our new kitty friend. Once we’ve made it outside, I spot an ambulance. “Over there.” I point.
“They aren’t going to know what to do with her,” he says, “but let’s lay her down and see if we can get her to shift to human.”
“How do you know she’s a she?” I ask as we hurry toward the ambulance.
“Sweetheart, you’re holding the mayor of Los Angeles in your arms.”
“Oh!” I look down at her in surprise and she blinks at me.
As we approach the ambulance a man comes around the side, holding his hand out. “Sorry, I only take injured humans.”
“You’ll take this shifter or you’ll lose your job,” I snap, channeling my best Erin Brockovich character. “This is the mayor and she needs immediate attention and your discretion.” I don’t know what the mayor’s deal is, but she kept her shifter heritage a secret for a reason and I’m not about to out her.
“Lavinia Rose?” he asks in surprise.
Without answering, Keenan yanks open the back door to the ambulance and lifts me inside before climbing in behind me. The paramedic joins us as I lay the mayor on the stretcher.
He stares at her with awe. “Is she really – ?”
The whirring sound I’ve come to recognize as a shifter about to shift fills the back of the ambulance and with a pop, the mayor turns into a human. A naked human.
She pushes herself up, staring at us with confusion. “What happened? I was mid-shift when everything went black. When I came around you two were standing over me.”
“ASHRA bombed the theatre,” Keenan says grimly.
The paramedic gasps. “We were told it was a mass casualty event, but a bomb…”
“Oh my god,” I whisper, the truth of what happened finally sinking in. “All those people.”
