I think I was about seven years old the first time I had the wind knocked out of me. I was on a swing at the playground, pumping my legs as hard as I could, pushing the swing higher and higher. Then, for some reason, I thought it would be a good idea to throw my arms into the air like I was flying.
Of course, there could have been only one outcome for doing something so utterly stupid. I was catapulted out of my seat, did an impressive backflip through the air and landed flat on my chest.
For at least a full minute, I could hardly breathe. Couldn't inhale. Couldn't exhale. Couldn't do anything. At the time, I'd been convinced I was dying.
And, that was pretty much how I felt now, staring at this complete stranger claiming to be my brother. Like I couldn't breathe. Like the air had been slammed forcefully out of my lungs.
The boy watched me, his mouth turned up slightly at the corners. He was tossing a strange, golden sphere from one hand to the other. "Are you gonna invite me in, or what?"
"I... where... how... what..." I stammered stupidly.
"You don't remember me, do you?" the boy said, unfazed. "That's okay. I don't remember you very well, either. It's been, what? Thirteen years?"
"T-thirteen..."
"Yeah, I know. Crazy, huh?"
"U-umm... I- I d-don't..."
"When did you develop the stutter?" he asked conversationally.
A flash of anger rushed through me, taking over my shock. "I don't have a stutter!"
"Well, that's good to know. Can I come in, now? Dad and Mr. Connelly are right behind me."
"Who?"
I looked past him. Parked on the curb was a spotless, gleaming black limo. As I watched, the doors popped open and two men stepped out. One was East Asian and looked to be in his mid-fifties. The other was a middle-aged caucasian. Both wore formal business suits and carried identical black briefcases.
The scene gave me an intense feeling of déjà vu. I vividly remembered the same limo pulling up in front of the hospital... the same two men stepping out into the parking lot... approaching the main entrance and being greeted my evil nurse...
My first instinct was to slam the door and run. Had it been just the two businessmen, that's probably exactly what I would have done. The pair of them had given me a nasty vibe right from the start. But...
My eyes went back to the boy, leaning with one shoulder casually against the doorframe, tossing his golden sphere back and forth. The boy who claimed to be my brother. Who had eyes just like mine. Who might be able to explain all the crazy, bizarre things that were happening to me. Could I really just walk away from that?
In the end, my hesitation decided for me. By the time all these thoughts had gone through my brain, the businessmen had already reached my front door. They walked right past me without so much as a "hello" although the older man's dark, slanted eyes lingered on mine for a moment or two.
The boy followed, his movements fluid and effortless. "C'mon, Cyprus. We have a lot to talk about."
We entered the kitchen. I caught a brief glimpse of the lady from the television network, talking at my mom and waving her hands all over the place. However, the second we stepped into the room, she leapt out of her chair as though she had experienced an electrical shock. She stared, wide-eyed, at the younger of the two men.
"M- Mr. Connelly. Sir, what are you-?"
"Who the hell are you?" the man asked bluntly.
"M-my name's Miranda, sir. From the network? We've met several-"
"What's your business with Miss. Griffin, Melinda?"
She didn't bother to correct him. "I- I'm here to recruit her for one of our new shows. She's an excellent candidate. The ratings would be out-of-this-world. Why, the advertisements alone would..." she trailed off, quelled by a harsh look from this Mr. Connelly person.
"We will not be wasting Miss. Griffin's talents on a cheap, daytime reality show. I have other uses for this one."
The woman's face had gone pale. "Yes, sir. Of course, sir."
"Get out."
"Right away, sir."
And she scurried out the door, leaving a whiff of expensive perfume in her wake.
"Idiotic woman," Mr. Connelly said. "Now, everyone, take a seat. Anthony, I want you on my left. Dominic, sit here on my right. Cyprus, on the other side of the table where I can see you. And..." he fixed dark brown eyes on my mother, "You. Get me a glass of ice water and then sit down next to Cyprus."
Inside, I was positively seething with indignation. Just who did this guy think he was? Kicking people out and ordering us around like he owned the place?
My palms began to sweat as I prepared to speak up. I'd never been one for confrontation, but this guy had crossed a line. And, if he had plans for me... if he thought I was going anywhere with him, then he had another thing coming!
I opened my mouth, ready to tell him off, but then my mom caught my eye. She made a slashing movement with her hand, wordlessly ordering me to be quiet. Then she hurried off to do Mr. Connelly's bidding.
I excused myself and followed her into the kitchen.
My mom had the strangest look on her face. If hadn't known better, I would have sworn she'd seen a ghost. Her hands trembled as she shifted glasses around, trying to find one that was free of chips or scratches.
"Mom," I said in an undertone. "What the heck is going on? Who are these guys?"
She glanced over her shoulder, then turned back to me and answered in a strained whisper. "The man in the center. Mr. Connelly. He's my boss... well, sort of. He owns the company I work for. He's an incredibly powerful man, Cyprus. He owns half the country."
My insides twisted. I looked back. Mr. Connelly had his arms folded, looking impatient.
"What's he doing here?" I hissed to my mom, who had finally chosen a glass with just a single chip at the base.
"I don't know. But, whatever he says, don't talk back. Don't argue with him." She opened the freezer to get some ice cubes.
"That boy said he's my brother."
"He is."
"Mom, you never even told me I had a brother."
"Well, I didn't expect you would ever see him again." She closed the freezer and filled the cup with water.
I was almost afraid to ask my next question. "What about the other guy? The older one? The boy said..."
"That's your father."
"My father?"
"We can talk about this later, Cyprus. Go sit down. I'm right behind you."
I did as I was told, feeling vaguely sick. My father... the older man was my father and he had just walked right past me. He'd barely even looked at me...
Mom gave Mr. Connelly his water, then sat down beside me. She gripped my hand under the table. I squeezed back, holding onto her like she was an anchor, keeping me attached to reality.
I found myself facing all three men across the table. The boy sat back in his chair, completely at ease. Mr. Connelly looked at me with the focus of a laser. The older, Asian man watched me closely as well, his expression unfathomable.
It was hard to believe he was my father. Not a single flicker of recognition crossed his face.
"Miss. Griffin."
I heard Mr. Connelly speak, but I didn't acknowledge him. I was completely fixated on my so-called father. How could he just sit there like that? So completely and utterly indifferent to my very existence? The boy... my brother... he had been a little rude, but least he spoken to me.
"Miss. Griffin, look at me when I am talking to you!" Mr. Connelly snapped.
Reluctantly, I turned away from my father and focused on Mr. Connelly. Whatever he had to say, I was almost a hundred percent sure I wouldn't be interested. No doubt he was just another greedy jerky trying to recruit me for something. But, if it would get his spiel over with faster...
"Do you know who I am, Miss. Griffin?" Mr. Connelly asked, apparently satisfied that he had my attention.
"No, sir," I replied blandly, my thoughts still on my father and brother.
"My name is Andrew Connelly. I'm the owner and founder of AC enterprises Inc. and currently the third wealthiest man in the world. This is my company CEO Mr. Sanjo," the indicated the older man. "And his son, Dominick." He gestured to the boy, who grinned lazily.
"Miss. Griffin, I have come here to make you an offer that very few people will ever receive." He nodded to the older man, who placed his briefcase on the table and snapped it open. I had this crazy idea that he was going to spin it around and show me stacks of money, like in the movies, but of course that was ridiculous. He simply reached inside and handed Mr. Connelly a few papers. Mr. Connelly placed them neatly on the table in front of him. His eyes remained focused intensely, relentlessly on mine.
"I own real estate all over the world, Miss. Griffin," Mr. Connelly said smugly. "I own super hotels and resorts in the most stunning locations you can imagine. I have three television networks, five theme parks and I recently purchased one of the most successful tech companies of the decade. But, all of this is nothing compared to my most recent project."
Oh boy, here it comes, I thought.
He slid one of the papers towards me. It was a brochure, displaying a network of sleek, modern buildings scattered along a gorgeous beach.
"That, Miss. Griffin, is my private, state-of-the-art training facility for powerful shape shifters. The first of its kind ever to be created. It sits on a thousand acres of unspoiled coast land in Baja California. It's been operational for less than two months, and already it has attracted some of the rarest shifters in the world. Miss. Griffin," Mr. Connelly folded his hands together and leaned back in his chair. "I am here to extend you my personal invitation. I would like you to come and train at my facility.
The room was quiet for a moment or two.
"You will be able to continue your formal education, of course," Mr. Connelly went on. "High-quality secondary and post-secondary classes are readily available, completely free of charge. You will be provided with your own private dormitory, maid services and three full meals a day. Also..."
I was barely listening. His words jumbled together meaninglessly. I was already busy formulating excuses inside my head.
"I can see you are reluctant, Miss. Griffin," Mr. Connelly said. "But, I will have you convinced by the end of this meeting, I guarantee you that."
"Convinced of what?"
"That my training facility is the best place—the only place—for a shifter of your talents."
My mom frowned. Her hand flexed inside mine.
"I take it," Mr. Connelly went on, "that the "Silent Heroes" as they call themselves, have already made you an offer. No doubt they plan on taking you to one of the shifter villages, am I right?
"Yes," I said, a little defiantly.
"And what, if anything, do they plan on doing about the arrest warrant and considerable amount of lawsuits piling up against you?"
This stopped me cold. For the first time, Mr. Connelly had my full attention.
"Wait, what's this?" My mother said. "What lawsuits?"
Mr. Connelly completely ignored her. "Miss. Griffin?"
My throat was suddenly tight. With so much other stuff going on, I had nearly forgotten about all the legal trouble I was in.
"I-I don't know," I admitted.
Mr. Connelly barked out a laugh. "Well, that's because they can't do anything about it, Miss. Griffin. Oh, sure they could try and hide you, try and protect you, but that does nothing to fix the problem. Fame will only take you so far in this life, young lady."
Was he saying what I thought he was saying?
"Now I, on the other hand," Mr. Connelly leaned forward eagerly. "I have real power. You want those lawsuits taken care of? I've got an army of defense lawyers who will run any prosecutor into the ground. I've got this city's police force in my back pocket. I can have the criminal charges against you dropped in the blink of an eye. More than that, young lady, I can make you rich. I can make you so rich that a few lawsuits will be nothing but a drop in the bucket. Inconsequential. Meaningless compared to your astronomical wealth."
I was mesmerized against my will. Could he really do all that? Just wave his hands and make all my problems go away?
Well, maybe he could. But, I was not naive enough to think it wouldn't come with a price.
"Soo..." I swallowed hard. I could hardly believe I was going along with this. "So, what do you want from me, then?"
Mr. Connelly grinned. It wasn't a friendly expression. I made him look sharkish, actually. "I thought it would have been obvious by now. I want you, Miss. Griffin. I want you to be a part of my vision. You will train at my facility. You will learn how to fight, both in human and animal form. You will learn how to control your powers. You will complete your education. And, when all that is finished, you will join my elite team of the most powerful, unique shape shifters in the world."
He sounded like a collector, bargaining for his crowning jewel. I didn't like this man, I didn't like anything about him, yet...
"A team of shifters that does what, exactly?" my mother asked. She was gripping my hand tighter than ever.
"Anything," Mr. Connelly said. "Everything. Everything the Silent Heroes do, and more. Save lives. Stop wars. Make the world a better place," his grin widened, "and, of course, if we turn a handsome profit while doing it, that's just icing on the cake."
The table was quiet again. I darted another glance at the brochure. It really did look gorgeous. Miles of sand. Turquoise water. The buildings reminded me of the ultra-modern structures in Singapore or Dubai.
No! I told myself firmly. No, you're not doing this! You're going with Isaac and Eve. You can't trust this guy. You know you can't.
But, what about the other people in the room? My father? My brother? I had so many questions for them. Questions that might never be answered if I ran off to some mysterious shifter village in the middle of nowhere.
"I... I don't understand," my mom said. "Why do you want Cyprus so badly? She's just a regular level-two wolf shifter, isn't she?"
"Oh, she is far more than that," Mr. Connelly replied greedily. "She is unique. She is one-of-a-kind. She is like nothing the world has ever seen."
It took me a few moments to absorb these words, but once I did it felt like someone had slapped me in the face."Wait! Wait... You know what kind of shifter I am? You know...?"
"Of course, I do, Miss. Griffin. Why? Were the so-called "Silent Heroes" a little confused by your talents? Well, that doesn't surprise me. They don't have the same information I do."
He paused. I just stared at him, my body on edge, my nerves shooting off like fireworks.
Mr. Connelly's gaze shifted left, then right, to the men on either side of him. "You have a very unique background, Miss. Griffin. With a strong history of shifters on both sides. On your mother's side, of course, you have the wolf shifters. That's quite common among the Native American population," it sounded as though he was talking about livestock. "And, on your father's side," he gestured at the young man, who was still leaning casually back in his chair, spinning his golden sphere so fast that it sent tiny lights whirling dizzyingly against the walls. "Have you ever heard of a Kitsune?"
"A-a what? I stuttered.
"Kitsune. It's a Japanese legend. A fox shifter. They are said to have extraordinary supernatural powers. Your brother here is a Kitsune." The boy grinned. "He's as rare as they come. As of yesterday, I would have said he's the rarest shifter in the world." The hungry look flashed across his face again. "But then you came along."
I was afraid of what he was going to say next. My mom was gripping my hand so tightly my fingers were going numb.
"Miss. Griffin, you have somehow inherited traits from both sides of your family. You have the body of a wolf and the powers of a Kitsune. You are a perfect mixture. A magnificent hybrid and the only one of your kind to have ever existed."
The greed on Mr. Connelly's face was now so intense he looked almost deranged.
I felt sick. It seemed like my whole world was crashing down around me. I couldn't take this. I didn't want it.
I lurched to my feet. The room seemed to tilt sideways. I put my hands on the table, trying to steady myself.
My mom placed a cool hand on my forehead. "Are you okay, sweetie?"
"Yeah," I wheezed. "Yeah, fine. I just..." I trailed off. I had no idea how to finish that sentence. Maybe because it was a gigantic lie. I was most definitely not fine. I couldn't remember when I had ever been less fine.
'Gentlemen," my mom said. "Can we have a few moments? This is a lot for her to take in. You have to admit that."
There was a tense pause. I knew instinctively that Mr. Connelly was not a man who liked to be kept waiting.
"We'll wait outside. You have exactly ten minutes." He stood up. My father and brother stood up with him. "Miss. Griffin, I expect you will use this time to think about my offer. I want an answer when we return."