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“I think we need to stick with the same plan,” Gabriel said. “But we can’t wait. If they figure out that she’s not their sister, they’ll destroy her. And if they figure out her power…well, either option isn’t good. We need to strike within the next forty-eight hours.” He eyed each of us and said, “I hope you’re ready.”
But we all knew what he was really saying…I hope you’re prepared to die.
* * *
“Somebody has to stay behind with Ren,” I finally spoke up after a long moment of silence. “As much as I don’t want to leave him,” I rubbed my fingers along his small scalp, the fine dark hair tickling the palm of my hand, “I have to be there, fighting for my daughter.”
“I’ll stay,” Amelia stepped forward immediately. She glanced at Patrick and her sons, “As much as I don’t want to watch you leave, I know I’m not the strongest vampire out there, and I don’t want you worrying about protecting me. If I’m here with the baby, then I’m helping in the best possible way.”
“Thank you, Amelia,” I wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
She smiled, but her eyes were sad. I knew what she was thinking, because I was thinking the same thing. Who, in this room, might not be here in a few days time?
“We don’t have much time left to prepare,” Gabriel said. “Amelia, stay with Ren. The rest of us will be in the basement.”
Amelia nodded and took Ren from my arms.
“Should I contact the shifters now?” Patrick asked.
Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, that would probably be best. You do that and the rest of us will spar.”
Amelia stayed in the nursery as the rest of us headed back to the basement and Patrick left.
For the rest of the day I was in a state of shock. I went through the motions and listened carefully to everything Gabriel was telling us, but I was vacant…a shell…and I knew I wouldn’t be whole again until my daughter was safely back in my arms.
* * *
“Excellent,” Gabriel smiled as the shifters strolled into the house behind Patrick a few hours later. “I can work with this,” he rubbed his hands together.
Once all the shifters were in the house—close to thirty of them—Gabriel said, “I assume Patrick has already explained everything to you and you understand the risks?”
They nodded, their murmurs of agreement echoing around the room.
“How many of you are wolves?” Gabriel asked. Many hands rose, fifteen…almost twenty.
“What are the rest of you? Any birds? Falcons? Eagles?”
“I’m a falcon,” a man with oiled black hair stepped forward.
“As am I,” a woman, whom I assumed was his wife stepped up beside him.
“This just keeps getting better and better,” Gabriel’s smile was so wide it was a bit frightening. “You two will be a great advantage to us. When you’re both in falcon form you can communicate telepathically, correct?”
They nodded.
“One of you will scour the skies and look for anything amiss, then report back to the other, who will be on the ground with us.”
They nodded again. “We can certainly do that,” the man said. “Jasmine will fly and I will report.”
“What are the rest of you?” Gabriel repeated, addressing the remaining, unknown shifters.
“Panther,” a lanky guy, no older than nineteen raised his hand.
“Tiger,” a small teenage girl said. She looked like a little doll, and I had a hard time imagining her as a menacing tiger.
“Cheetah,” a dark skinned man with the deepest voice I’d ever heard, spoke from the back of the group.
“Cheetah.”
