Free Shifted by Lily Cahill

was headed back to town to raise the alarm.”
    She nodded. “Good thing there are people around who aren’t ashamed their powers.”
    Charlie recoiled. “I’m not ashamed. I just ….”
    While she waited for him to come up with something, Briar heard Norine call her name. “Where are you? You were supposed to move the car. Mom’s mad.”
    Briar sighed. There were still a dozen cars parked behind Patrice’s sedan, including Charlie’s truck. People were still filtering back to their cars, and the ones who were last to arrive were most eager to stay and hear what they had missed. It was going to take an hour to get everyone turned around on the narrow road back to town. But somehow, Patrice had found a reason to be mad at her. 
    “There you are,” Norine said as she came through the last cars. “Mom says you should help with the supplies. Who’s that with you?”
    With evident disinterest, Charlie raised his hand in a wave. “Hi, Norine.”
    “Well, hi, Charlie. I didn’t realize you were here tonight.” Norine’s shoulders went back and she managed to swish her hips as she walked between the cars. 
    “I missed most of the action helping my mother bring supplies. If I could have helped more, I would have,” he said with a pointed look at Briar. 
    Norine simpered at Charlie. “Aren’t you just the sweetest thing? But you probably shouldn’t be standing this long. Do you need help to get into your truck?”
    Charlie’s shoulders hunched. “I’m fine.”
    “Well, all right. But any little thing you need, Charlie, you know you can count on me. After all, I’m right next door.”
    Glowering, Charlie limped toward his door. 
    “Come on,” Briar said irritably. “Aunt Patrice is waiting.”
    “He is just so handsome,” Norine whispered. “What were you two talking about?”
    “Nothing,” Briar said quickly, and a lightning bolt of pain lanced into her head. “He was just being rude, as usual.”
    “Poor Charlie,” Norine said. “He’s had such a hard time moving on. You know he hasn’t gone on a single date since Angela died?”
    “So what?”
    “I’m just saying, he’s still a young man, handsome. Maybe he just needs the love of a good woman to turn him around.”
    Norine was tapping a coral-painted fingernail against her matching lips. Briar knew that expression. “What are you planning?”
    “I’m just thinking that maybe Charlie needs a sweetheart. Do you think he would be interested in me?”
    “No,” Briar said, before she thought better of it. Sure enough, Norine wouldn’t speak to her for the rest of the night.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER EIGHT
    Briar
     
    It was hot in the hallway, humid and close. She wanted to get out, wanted to duck into one of the side rooms and hide, but her feet kept carrying her forward. With each step the hallway stretched longer. She had to get to the end. She tried to run, but the hot, sticky air clung to her like tar. There was screaming now, desperate pleading, and Briar fell to her knees and crawled across the nubby gray carpet. 
    One foot closer, two, and suddenly the stairs were there. Then the world twisted, and in a flash she was clinging to the top step, certain she would tumble back down the long hallway if she let go. There was something coming up (down?) the stairs toward her, and she pressed her face into the carpet. She couldn’t look, couldn’t bear to see.
    A hand came down on her cheek. It bore a simple gold wedding band and reeked of blood. The hand tipped Briar’s head up, and she wanted to close her eyes but it didn’t help, it didn’t stop her from seeing.
    Her mother’s face was destroyed, so bashed and battered that Briar could see the bone peeking out of her skin. Her mother’s broken mouth widened in a smile. “Hello, my dear,” she said, her voice as musical and sweet as ever.
    Briar jerked awake with a scream caught in her throat. Her heart was pounding, her body covered in clammy sweat. For a terrible