This form felt lighter, freer.
I looked at my arms, saw red-tipped wings - feathers - instead of paws.
A bird, I was a goddamn bird.
Oh God, the drug. It was changing me, as it had changed the others who'd taken it.
No, I thought, no,
Then I shoved it all aside. Shoved aside the fear. I had no time for it, not if I wanted to live. I frantically pumped my newly formed wings up and down. But having a bird shape didn't exactly mean I knew how to fly. Obviously there was an art to it, because I was flapping for all I was worth and still falling. I didn't even think my speed was slowing.
I cursed fluently, but it came out as a weird croaking cry. A cry that sounded an awful lot like that of a sea-gull.
Great. I was going to die in the form of a creature considered little more than a winged rat.
The rocks were so close that the salty droplets of sea spray was splashing up from them and hitting me. There was little time - so little time - for a miracle.
And yet, it came.
The sea breeze hit me, battering me sideways, and momentarily lifting me upward. In desperation, I stopped pumping and spread my wings wide. The wind caught underneath, feathers fluttering as I was lifted up, away from the rocks and out into the deeper ocean.
There the wind dumped me. I landed chest-first in an ungainly, unsightly, and very un-birdlike way. It didn't matter a damn.
I was alive.
I felt like flapping my arms and dancing for joy on the rolling waves. Against all the odds, I was alive.
But it was an exuberance that was short lived.
I might be alive, but the means by which I'd survived had been a dramatic one. The ARC 1-23 drug given to me over a year ago had finally stopped making little changes and started making big ones.
I could take on other shapes, and that was the one thing I'd been absolutely hoping would never, ever happen. Because it meant that my hopes of escaping the Directorate and my role as a guardian were ashes. I was Jack's girl now, like it or not. My only other choice was being sent to the military to join the other half-breeds who'd been affected by the drug in the research centers.
There was no way in hell that was going to happen. At least with the Directorate, I could have some semblance of a normal life - even if my job there could in no way ever be considered normal.
But at least not all my hopes were dead. When it came to Kellen, the how of survival didn't matter. I was alive, and now had the chance to give him - to give us - the commitment we deserved.
Fate had booted me up the rear end with this fall, and I wasn't going to ignore the warning, I was going to make a grab for what I wanted, and hope that it was right.
Movement caught my eye, and I looked up. High atop the cliff top, two figures had appeared. Both men had their rifles slung over their shoulders, but Jorn was looking a little worse for the wear, his arm and leg bloody and hair in disarray.
He'd be easy to track once I got back onto land. The scent of his blood would leave a lovely trail for the keen nose of a wolf to follow.
The two men argued on the top of the cliff for several minutes. I floated on the waves, paddling for all I was worth against the current to remain where I was. It was more tiring than I thought it would be, but maybe that was a combination of the short seagull legs and overall weariness from all the running I'd been doing up until the fall.
Yohan glanced at his watch, but neither of them moved, just stayed there watching the ocean, either waiting for signs of life or confirmation of death.
Exhaustion was creeping over me, and the need to resume one of my regular shapes was growing.
And deep inside, the niggle of concern was beginning. What if I couldn't resume my regular shape? That had been one of the main problems facing the others who'd been shafted into the military - the inability to resume human shape.
But then, they'd apparently gone through multiple shapes, exploring the width and breadth of their new skills, until the cells in their bodies could no longer remember original forms.
I had no intention of being that stupid.
I might explore this new ability, but it would be under controlled conditions, with Rhoan by my side.
Though the form of a red-winged gull was not exactly an enticing one. Why a damn gull? Why couldn't I have chosen something more exotic? Sexy? Dangerous, even? Like a hawk, or an eagle. Hell, even a cockatoo had more appeal than a damn seagull.