Fury Rising (Fury Unbound Book 1) by Yasmine Galenorn

brushed his hair and put on a clean shirt.
    I gathered my things and grabbed the box of chocolates out of the bag, stopping suddenly as I found an envelope beneath them. I opened it to find myself staring at a cash card marked for three hundred cash. Hecate. She had overheard me talking to Queet.
    Suddenly, I felt a wash of gratitude that I was under her yoke. Feeling a little better, I pocketed the money. Calling out, “Queet? You there? Let’s go. We’re heading to Bend,” I popped another chocolate in my mouth. We headed to the parking garage down the street where Jason kept his car. I had a feeling by the end of the day, the candy box was going to be empty. It was just that kind of a day.
     

     
    Jason’s car was a spiffy low-rider wonder, a self-driving model with a manual override option. When the gas and oil crises got too bad, the manufacturers had finally moved beyond electric models, which had proven untenable for the long run, and instead developed a sustainable form of fuel and non-toxic batteries.
    Unfortunately, even though agroline was affordable, the government stacked on so many taxes that it was difficult for the average commuter to own a car. Add to that, parking costs were at such a premium that most people just gave up and used mass transit. The Monotrain was the easiest and swiftest way to get around the city.
    As we sped along the freeway, I tried to think of something to say. I wasn’t sure if Jason even wanted to talk. I glanced over him, trying to gauge his expression, but hawk-shifters were cagey and hard to read. Finally, I decided that he could start the conversation when he was ready. I leaned back in my seat and stared out the window. I thought about trying to pinpoint the Abom on my inner Trace, but we were rapidly moving away from Seattle and he’d be out of range entirely soon.
    Seattle sat on the edge of the Pacific Sound. Bend was about an hour inland, southeast of the city, deep into the Wild Wood. In the distant past, the suburbs had sprawled for miles outside of the cities, but eventually both small towns and big cities had became localized, and the natural world was allowed to reclaim the space between metropolis areas.
    Lining both sides of the freeway was a thick wall of fir and cedar, interspersed with oak and birch and aspen. The undergrowth was made up of vast copses of fern and huckleberry, stinging nettle and skunk cabbage and all manner of wildflowers and shrubs. Small streams trickled through the foliage, reinforced from the glaciers that rose, icy and sparkling in the western Cascades and their foothills. The water moistened the forest floor, creating ravines and gullies and meadows in the resurgence of the natural world that had taken hold since the World Shift.
    The ravines were deep and dangerous, filled with wildlife. Most of the animals would run if you came at them, but the cougars and bears usually held their ground. Hunting was illegal, save for in certain areas that were strictly bordered. Given all the Weres who had appeared when the doors on the World Tree opened, hunting had to be regulated. As a result, the ecosystem had a thriving array of predators and prey.
    Dusk was falling. Outside the city, the air cooled quickly, given the absence of concrete, and before long, the evening mist would rise thick and soupy, to drift over the roads.
    It’d been a while since I’ve been away from Seattle and I found myself sinking into a state of relaxation that I seldom was able to manage in the city.
    “My family comes out to the woods every week or so, so we can fly.” Jason’s voice startled me, I had been so wrapped up in watching the miles pass by. “Eileen never could wait, though. She had to fly every day or she was unhappy.”
    I lazily rolled my head to look at him. He had switched over to manual driving and was focused on the road, but he looked calmer. Cities weren’t a natural element for most shifters.
    “When was the first time you took wing? I