Shifting Fates by Nadia Simonenko, Aubrey Rose Page B

over his defined muscles, can’t stop imagining how his hand would feel if it moved over my hips, my body. In this instant, I can feel my pulse hammering against the insides of my wrists, against my temples. I can feel my skin flush with a desire that I’ve never before known. It’s something so fierce and instinctive that it rattles me to the core.
    He looks down at the rations packages on the ground, and then he kneels down on the sidewalk and picks up Kit’s doll. He hands it to me and starts to turn away.
    I don’t know what I am thinking. I should kill him. I should have already killed him. I’m giving him too much time to think, to form a plan of attack. I need to be gone. Gone ! Out of this light —
    He reaches into his pocket, and I try to swallow but my throat is clenched tight. Every muscle of mine is vibrating with tension and, as much as I hate to admit it, repressed desire. My claws are beginning to emerge from my bones, twisting against my skin. I struggle to keep them retracted. Why ? Why not kill him?
    The guard pulls out a square of foil-wrapped chocolate and holds it out to me. I can smell it even through the cold air. My mind is suspicious. My stomach growls.
    My fingers reach out and take the gift and as I take the chocolate my fingertips brush his hand.
    Again I feel something pass between us. Without thinking about it, I am being pulled in by his eyes. There’s a softness in his face that belies his appearance, his soldier’s uniform, his gun. There’s a tenderness in his gaze that sweeps over me, evaluating, and as he watches me I know without a trace of doubt that he desires me, too. If I were human, I would be overjoyed. As it is, I’m terrified at the dizzy feeling that I get at his touch.
    I breathe in to try and get some oxygen, to relieve the dizziness in my mind, but I can only smell him . Sweat and soap, a soldier’s scent. And more than that, a masculine musk of something secret, something hiding underneath his skin...
    “I didn’t see nothing,” he says. His voice is low but not threatening, and something—instinct? desire?—tells me to hold still, not to attack. It makes no sense. He knows my face. But I don’t strike out at him with a killing blow. I wait.
    He shakes his head slightly, his light hair reflecting the glow from above. I want to reach out and touch his face, touch his hair. But he is already pulling away.
    “Merry Christmas. ”
    He walks away quickly and is already around the corner before I can speak. I don’t know what I would say to him, even if I hadn’t choked. Thank you , maybe? Glad I didn’t have to kill you ?
    No… I would’ve told him Merry Christmas.
    Tomorrow is Christmas. I shovel the rations back into the pouch along with Kit’s doll and dart back down the alleyway. I lift the sewer grating and swing down into the darkness, my feet finding purchase on the damp ladder.
    Above me I pull the grate back, and with a loud clang it settles into its grooves. As if by my signal, the lights go out overhead, and the city falls into the same darkness I know every day. I can see the stars now, pinpoints of light in the thin black slice of sky looming over the tops of the brownstones. The soldier is up there, somewhere, maybe watching the stars like I am.
    If I were human… I shake my head. Silly to think like that. There’s nothing aboveground for me except food to steal and soldiers to hide from. I climb down slowly into the dark tunnel that will be my home forever, until I can escape this godforsaken city.
    Tomorrow is Christmas. It’s also my birthday. A wry smile curves into my cheek.
    I’ll celebrate being alive .

Chapter Two
    Cage
    It’s Christmas Eve and there are so many people lined up in Times Square tonight for food that I’ve resigned myself to a double shift. Even if the Major hasn’t called it in, it’s only a matter of time now. There must be seven hundred people in line tonight.
    “Families in the left line, individuals in the