Outback Shifters: Rhys – Special Preview

 

Over the past half hour, Maisie had been starting to feel… well, not complacent, exactly, but a little jaded. A little world-weary. Like nothing could surprise her anymore.

Hot guys with bullet wounds falling through her window? Been there. Top-secret government agent types whisking said guy away to deal with the green goo oozing from his flesh? Done that. Go up to some random hacker’s fetid, cockroach-infested home office? Sure, why the hell not.

But okay, maybe complacent wasn’t too far off the mark. Because, she had to admit to herself, she had not been expecting to see an exploding door.

She hadn’t even realized that there was another door back there, shrouded as it had been in both shadows and piles of empty old Bundy cans alike.

Maisie knew this last one because a cascade of cans was currently flying past her in the wake of said explosion, making one hell of a racket and, she had to admit, scaring the living crap out of her. On one level of her mind she knew that she should be worried about the explosion itself, which would surely catch up with her within the next fraction of a second, but mostly she was just thinking shit, that’s loud.

It took a long moment of huddling down with her hands over her ears before she realized that Rhys was sheltering her with his body, arms wrapped protectively around her shoulders so that his back would bear the brunt of the explosion.

No, she opened her mouth to say – the thought of him putting himself in harm’s way for her sake seemed unbearable, for some reason – but no sound came out.

All she could do was bury her face into his chest as the rattling of the cans filled her ears, feeling the comfort of his strong, warm body around hers, his scent somehow making her feel safe.

If she and Rhys died here, then maybe there would be worse ways to go than cradled in the arms of the hottest man she’d ever seen, his stubble gently caressing her cheek, his bulging bicep just within her line of sight…

Still, I would really prefer not to die at all!

She braced for the explosion, which really was being a long time in coming. Maisie knew that a person’s perception of time could do all kinds of weird things during times of stress, but this was getting a bit ridiculous.

The sound of the cans rattling along the floor slowed, and then stopped… as did Maisie’s breathing. The silence was complete, which was somehow far more ominous than the cacophony of mere moments before, and she found herself holding her breath in anticipation. Because surely something was about to happen, right? Doors didn’t just explode themselves and send some cans flying.

And yet…

The silence continued, stretching on interminably. Maisie forced herself to take in a breath, hold it, and slowly exhale, then repeat the process. She felt Rhys’s arms loosen ever so slightly from around her body, and she had to bite her lip to keep from saying no, please stay with me.

In the end, curiosity overrode her good sense, and she raised her head just a little to see what was going on…

And immediately wished she hadn’t, as she found her gaze meeting with the beady, malevolent, blood-red eyes of a… some kind of enormous, shaggy, black-feathered bird, who looked like it might have stepped right out of the pits of hell – or at least from her worst nightmares.

…A cassowary?!

An honest-to-God cassowary.

I think I would’ve preferred the explosion.

If she’d thought she was scared before, she was honestly terrified now. A wheezing sound came from her mouth, and she tried to scramble backwards, nearly falling off the couch in her panic – only Rhys’s strong arms kept her from hitting the floor.

“What is it?” he whispered urgently, staring at her with his – much less horrifyingly blood-colored – golden-brown eyes.

Maisie just shook her head, words beyond her at this point, as she tore her eyes from Rhys’s face and looked back at the – the cassowary­, here in an apartment in Bondi Junction, stalking slowly toward her over the rubbish-strewn floor, crushing what looked to be a half-eaten halal snack pack under its uncaring foot. Its uncaring, very large, very clawed foot.

Maisie gurgled a little, her eyes widening even further as she clutched at Rhys’s shoulders. There was no way in hell she could outrun a pissed-off cassowary at the best of times, and she definitely wasn’t capable of it now. What would her friends and family say when they found out that instead of enjoying the sun and sand in the Whitsundays, she’d been off getting eaten alive by a cassowary in suburban Sydney? Or would Rhys’s creepy government friends just dispose of her body, leaving her disappearance a mystery for the ages? She almost thought she might prefer that, really.

The cassowary’s wattles quivered in the non-existent breeze. Maisie whimpered.

“What the hell is going on?” Rhys demanded, looking bewildered. He turned his head to look over his shoulder and jumped, nearly losing his grip on Maisie in the process. “Shit! Fuck me dead!”

He took a deep breath – was he getting ready to run? Maisie tensed. Maybe she could manage to get out of here if she had Rhys helping her out?

“Shaz!” he bellowed. “How many times do I have to tell you not to freak me out like that?! Fucking hell!”

“Shaz…?” Maisie murmured, mystified. Should she be relieved that Rhys was apparently on a first-name basis with this murder machine? This murder machine called Shaz?! Was it some kind of pet?!

Yeah, all that stuff that happened earlier today was nothing. I was naïve to believe that I could handle anything else today threw my way.

She watched confoundedly as the cassowary ducked its head, looking ashamed.

No, that was definitely the weirdest thing about today. Shame-faced cassowaries were simply not something that was within Maisie’s realm of understanding. Cassowaries knew no shame! They wouldn’t blink twice at the thought of chasing you off a cliff! They sucked!

The cassowary ruffled its feathers in a way that, if Maisie hadn’t known better, would have almost seemed apologetic… and then, as if in a heat haze, it started to shimmer.

“Wait!” Rhys said desperately, reaching out a futile hand. “Shaz – stop – not now, seriously – civilian – civilian – abort, dammit –”

The cassowary continued to shimmer, and then it started to change.

Perhaps something had snapped in Maisie’s brain, because she watched with barely a reaction as the death bird turned into a tall, sturdy, somewhat apologetic but also kind of belligerent-looking woman.

She felt calm. It seemed to make sense that the cassowary would turn into a person. Why wouldn’t it?

Is this it? Did I get blown up after all, and now my brain is just providing me with some hallucinations as it shuts down?

I guess there are worse ways to go. I’m not in any pain. I’m not seeing any cassowaries anymore. And Rhys does smell nice.

… I wish I’d had a chance to get to know him better.

“Shaz!!” Rhys hissed. “What did I just say?!”

“Nice to see you too, arsehole,” the cassowary woman – Shaz, Maisie supposed – sneered. “Here you are, knocking things over and making a ruckus in my home, and my man is nowhere to be seen. Why wouldn’t I come see what’s going on?”

“Why would you kick down the damn door?” Rhys yelled. Maisie’s head turned as if on autopilot – and, she supposed, the door didn’t look so much like it had exploded as it looked like it had been kicked down by an enraged cassowary, sending the piles of rubbish in its general proximity flying every which way.

So, no explosion, then – just a grumpy giant bird kicking down a door because it couldn’t find its boyfriend.

Does that mean…?

Maisie’s head swiveled over toward the desk… and there was…

Is that… no… it can’t be…

Maisie’s eyes widened as she stared at the… the tiny, rather chubby kangaroo?… that was currently hopping out from underneath the desk Michael had been sitting at before the door had unexpectedly blown off its hinges.

No – not a kangaroo, Maisie thought in a daze. That’s – that’s a quokka.