They look mortal. They don’t move like they’re mortal.

From the rooftop, Romer was the first to see them. Through the scope on his favorite assault rifle, of course. “Incoming. Trees across the street.”

It’s a typical October night in Seattle. Chilly. Misting rain. Just enough to make it so that it’s harder to see than I’d really like it to be. I can’t shift, because we don’t know what’s here and we don’t want to tip our hand just yet. I don’t have Romer’s veteran sixth sense, so it takes me a minute to find them. Five people, moving in a group. Crouching down like they’re expecting trouble, sniffing at the air. That’s weird. We all watch them as they creep carefully out onto the front lawn of the abandoned house. I wait for that knowing that comes when I’m looking at one of the Children of Chaos’ favorite children, but it isn’t there. Then one of them growls. Not the kind of growl that someone makes when they’re frustrated. No, a genuine back of the throat animal growl.

Then something comes flying out of the trees and onto the rooftop. Another person, followed shortly thereafter by a buddy. They land completely silently. Their eyes scan the neighborhood, moving in erratic spurts, jerky, but intentional. Like birds.

This is a whole new brand of freaky. Fortunately, I gave up that I’ve seen everything a long time ago.

Ever the subtle one, Romer breaks the quiet by firing three rounds from his rifle into the chest of the pack leader. He goes down. “Sorena. Roof. Everyone else, follow me.” Romer shifts and something horrifying and black with lots of legs skitters across the street. He is one ugly Tager.

He’s on the pack just as they’re backing into the trees. I’m in the air before I can see his fangs tear into one of them. The bird guys on the roof freeze for a moment as they watch this monstrosity with 30-foot bat wings descend on them. Me. The look on their faces is one that an animal gets when it knows it’s going to die, but it’s terror nonetheless. Which is what I like to see. Their deaths are gruesome, but fast. I don’t have the time for anything more satisfying.

Preacher comes over the ether. “They’re in the trees. I’ve got the trail.” Nazzadi, Phantom, and a tracker. They don’t have a chance. I hope the fetch and the psychics remember to stay behind him this time. Kole’s firestarting isn’t going to do a lot of good in the rain.

I float down to the ground, shift, and follow. I need to be smaller right now. Romer’s already up in the trees, like some kind of spider you’d only see in nightmares. The leaves on the ground are crunchy and slippery, but I’m over them without even blinking. I have to remember not to wear 300 terranote shoes the next time we leave the arcology. I see Mesta bringing up the rear, his white skin practically glowing.

Something sideswipes Preacher. A pair of the biggest guys I’ve ever seen tackle him and actually knock him down with a bellowing roar. This animal-business is clearly more than skin deep. Kole and Mesta back into each other, pistols waiting for something to shoot at. I can’t see Grimnash anywhere, so that means the little bugger is waiting to hamstring something. Good.

It doesn’t take long for Preacher to skewer one of the guys on him. Romer drops down and suddenly stops, which gives me pause, too. The shadows are crawling with things. There are small things in the trees and humanoid shapes all around us. I feel like an amateur. We just got led straight into a trap.

As I take quick stock of our situation, the smell hits. It’s flowery and musky, sweet and bitter all at the same time. It takes only a moment before it’s downright overpowering, filling my head with an electric warmth that drips down through the rest of my body. It’s kind of like coming up on really good Bliss, but I’d say even a shade better. I realize that the bestial people have stopped attacking before I realize I forgot we were being attacked. I take a deep breath and feel like I really want to hug someone. I look at the boys and they look just as messed up as me. Romer and Preacher have even shifted back.

Then I see where this is all coming from. They come out of the darkness, slinking through their people. Some of the hottest girls I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying something. Built like porn stars, bare naked, with a look in their eye I know all too well. It doesn’t even bother me that they’re not quite normal. The one sauntering up to me has pointed ears, cat’s eyes, claws, the barest whisper of fur, and a long tail. Preacher is staring down a gorgeous girl with segmented eyes, antennae, gossamer wings, and yellow and black patterns that follow the contours of her body. My heart skips a beat. They are so beautiful they’re like angels. And I am ready to have sex with each and every one of them. Preferably at the same time.

“Let’s not fight.” One of them just talked. The growing need just got worse.

Kole’s trying to lip off in the background. I ignore him. Doesn’t sound important anyway.

The cat girl slips into my arms and strokes the side of my face. My body reacts like I’m fourteen again. She smiles and whispers in my ear. “You should all come back with us.” Then, she kisses me and it’s another wave of full-blown crazy.

Now I don’t exactly have a problem with the ladies and I get more than my fair share of tail. But this is way different and quite possibly literal. I don’t want to be comfortable with that, but I can’t help but be.

Kole is still making noise. I can’t take my eyes off this girl long enough to see if he’s the sane one or if he’s just that annoying guy who talks through the movie. With Kole, it could easily be either.

Out of my peripheral vision, I can see Mesta. He’s already making out with a girl who brings new meaning to the term bunny. I laugh. The cat girl responds by stroking me in a way that’s not polite to do in public. This is way better than drugs. But the symbiont that’s a part of me won’t let me give in just yet.

“What do you want with us?” I manage to say.

She giggles. It’s a musical sound. “Isn’t it obvious, silly?”
I touch her skin and brush my hand down her shoulder. It’s soft in a way that might redefine soft for me. Great, that just made it worse. But again, something in me resists.

“I can be slow. Spell it out for me.”

She leans in and kisses me with a fire I’ve never experienced. Her tongue and mine intertwine for what seems like forever.

Pulling back, she whispers, “I want you inside me.”

The words just slip out of my mouth. “Let’s go.”

She takes me by the hand and leads me into the trees. I look around and see that I’m not the only one. I shake my head to try to get a grip. Somewhere, inside, I know that this is bad and that this is wrong.

But I want it so much.