Authors: Marissa Farrar
She didn't want to lie to him, but she also couldn't stand the idea of telling him the truth. He hadn’t been present enough in her life for her to trust him with such knowledge. He hadn't been a good enough parent to deserve to know the truth.
Her gaze shifted down, and she scuffed her foot against the floor. “I don’t know who the samples came from.”
To her surprise, he took several steps toward her, his protective white lab coat flapping around his legs as he moved, and grabbed her upper arm. His wrinkled hand was surprisingly strong, his fingers digging through the material of her jacket, bruising the skin below. For the first time in years, she felt like he was truly seeing her. “What are you getting into, Autumn?”
His voice was sharp and she recognized anger and … what else? Did she see fear in his pale eyes? Why did she suddenly feel like he knew more than should be possible? He might have seen some of the footage of Chogan shifting and put two and two together, but she was sure he had bought the story of Blake being responsible for her kidnapping. He hadn’t even asked any more questions of her when she came home, despite her telling him that she’d left with Blake willingly. He certainly wasn’t someone who followed local news channels or hung out on the web.
She realized she hadn’t answered him and tugged her arm away. “I don’t know what you mean.”
The mild-mannered, distracted man she had struggled to connect with most of her adult life vanished. In his place stood an individual of almost frightening focus, and his focus was on her.
“Don't give me that, Autumn. How did you find out? Did they find you or did you go looking for them? And tell me the truth, mind. You always were a terrible liar ...”
“Unlike you, apparently,” she said, blinking in surprise.
“I need to know what you know.”
“Why am I thinking the exact same thing?”
His eyes narrowed behind his glasses, and he spoke from between gritted teeth. “I’m not playing games here, Autumn. This is a matter of life or death.”
His words shocked her, aftershocks of alarm jarring through her. “What are you talking about?”
He held out his hand. “Give me the samples.”
She didn’t feel she could argue. She reached into her purse and brought out a Styrofoam box which contained several vials. A couple held samples of her own blood and the others contained something she still felt guilty about—a few strands of short, dark hair she’d lifted from her pillow. Blake’s hair. Using a centrifuge and chemicals she knew her father would have in his lab, she’d be able to remove Blake’s shifter DNA and isolate the gene that caused the mutation. Then she’d be able to figure out if her blood proved Lakota
Wolfcollar’s story to be true and the results she’d witnessed in Dumas’ laboratory to be real.
Professor Anderson took the samples from her and carried the small box over to the counter with great care, as though they contained something explosive. He set the box down, removed the lid, and carefully withdrew one of the vials. Inside the glass, her blood appeared to be almost black. Only at the very edges, where the fluid had sloshed up the sides, did it appear red.
He turned to her and lifted the vial as if about to do a toast. “Yours, I assume?”
Autumn forced herself to stand up to him. She didn’t know why he had such a hold over her. It wasn’t as though he intimidated her; more that she always seemed to revert to a child in his presence, a child who was never quite good enough to capture her father’s attention. But she was good enough. While she’d never quite met her father’s level in his professional field before he’d supposedly retired, she’d far surpassed most other scientists of her age.
But she needed to find out what her father knew about all of this. She needed him on her side.
“Yes, that’s my blood.”
He held up the vial containing the few strands of Blake’s hair. “I’m going to assume this belongs to one of
them
.” He spat the last word, the vehemence in his tone shocking her.
“Them?”
“One of the monsters responsible for your mother’s death?”
The world suddenly felt as though it had been pulled out from under her, no longer solid. The walls of the underground room closed in, while the mental walls her father had built began to crumble, leaving her feeling both claustrophobic and hideously exposed all at the same time.
Her voice was barely audible as she asked, for the second time in a matter of minutes, “What are you talking about?”
Her father focused in on her, and once again, he seemed truly present with her, no longer with his mind occupied with some other project while he was half-heartedly having a conversation with her.
“I’m talking about how your mother died.”
“It was an accident. A freak accident.”
He shook his head. “Your mother’s death was no accident. They just made it look that way.”
“No, her death was down to a fault in the hot air
balloon’s gas.”
She thought back to the day she’d only ever been told about. Her father bought them the balloon ride as an anniversary present, something her mom had always wanted to experience. But on the ascent, something had gone wrong. Her dad tried to convince her mother to jump, he’d realized they would only go higher before they came down, but she’d refused. He jumped, hoping to be able to get help for the distressed balloon, but he’d broken his leg on the fall and had been lucky to survive himself. When the gas finally ran out, the balloon had been hundreds of feet higher before plummeting down. Her mom and the man operating the balloon were killed upon hitting the ground. Her father had never forgiven himself, both for buying her the balloon trip and for jumping without her. He’d told Autumn on several occasions that he felt as though he’d simply abandoned her to her death.
“No, it wasn’t. It was sabotage. A group of those
people
found out what she could do and they wanted her dead.”
“Why?” Autumn asked, though she suddenly had a feeling she already knew the answer. “What could she do?”
“From what I’m holding in my hand, I’m guessing the same thing as you. Her blood held the ability to turn regular people into freaks.”
“They’re not freaks,” Autumn snapped.
“Don’t let them fool you. I’d been hoping that by keeping my distance from you—making you grow up with Mia’s family—and keeping myself out of the public eye as much as possible, that they’d never suspect you may have the same ability.”
The realization of the reason her father had been so distant with her slowly sank in. He never thought she wasn’t good enough, and he hadn’t been traumatized by her mother’s death. No, instead, he’d been trying to protect her. But from what? Not shifters, surely? All the shifters she’d met were good people. Not people capable of cold-blooded murder …
Not like you haven’t seen both Blake and Chogan kill when they needed to.
Something cold and oily coiled around in her stomach. A wave of nausea washed over her.
No, both Blake and Chogan had always gone out of their way to protect her. She didn't believe them capable of harming her. Maybe
they
wouldn't hurt her, but that didn't mean there weren't others who would. Except no one else knew what she could do, if she could do it at all. That was the whole reason she had come here in the first place, she reminded herself.
Autumn lifted her head and looked her father in the eye. “I want proof,” she said. “Show me my blood can really do what you are saying.”
“I know you, Autumn. You wouldn't have come this far without already having had proof of some kind. I don't believe you would just take someone's word for it.”
She figured the confidentiality clause in her previous contract was null and void after everything that had happened. “Remember I told you I had a new job?”
“The one you were kidnapped from?”
“It wasn't exactly a kidnapping ...”
“I know. You told me on the phone that you’d chosen to leave with that man.”
She hesitated, realizing she was about to reveal Blake’s secret without his permission. What choice did she have if she wanted her father’s help?
“He isn’t exactly a man either. Blake is a spirit shifter.”
Her father’s lips thinned. “I see. And does he know about you? About what your blood can do?”
“About what we
think
my blood can do,” she corrected. “We don’t have the proof yet.”
“We can get that soon enough, though I don’t need proof to believe what you’re telling me.”
Her head reeled. This was the last thing she ever thought her father would be saying to her. She realized she was getting off track. “Anyway, yes, he does know. Someone in the government department also learned about what I allegedly could do and wanted to use my blood to create his own army of shifters to use for military purposes. Blake took me to safety.”
Professor Anderson paled. “Jesus. So the government wanted you for the opposite reason the shifters wanted your mother dead.”
“What do you mean?”
“The shifters who found out about your mother’s abilities thought their abilities were sacred, or some such bullshit. They thought her existence was a crime against their spiritual belief and abilities. They killed her because they didn’t want to be able to create more shifters, whereas this man …”
“Dumas,” she filled in.
“… Dumas, wanted you because he wanted to create more shifters.”
She nodded. “Sounds about right. I still can’t believe shifters were responsible for Mom’s death.”
“Believe it. Because if word gets out that you’re able to do the same thing, these purists will be after you, too.”
She considered this for a moment. She was sure she remembered Blake saying something similar—that this was the exact reason he’d not wanted Chogan to know about her. It seemed he had more reason to be afraid for her than she’d given him credit for.
BLAKE’S LARGE PAWS hit the forest floor, dirt and stones flying up from beneath his pads. Twigs and larger sticks cracked under his combined weight and speed.
He could barely believe he was heading back to the reservation again, two visits in barely a week. He’d spent the majority of his adult life avoiding the place, and, ironically, the reason for his going back was the same reason he’d shunned his home and family—his cousin, Chogan.
He doubted he would find his cousin at Big Lake Reservation, but he did hope he’d find someone who would have an idea about Chogan or Tala’s current location. They had plenty of friends on the reservation; someone was bound to have heard something.
Blake hoped Autumn would be all right back in Chicago. He had no reason to think she’d be any less safe than anyone else in the city. No one else knew about Autumn’s blood except Chogan and, despite all his crazy ideas, Blake truly didn’t believe his cousin would put her in danger. Of course, he couldn’t be sure how much information Dumas had spread about Autumn’s abilities before he died, but since they’d not heard anything from anyone linked to the government, he assumed the general had kept the real reason for wanting to track her down to himself. Even the truth about Peter had stayed a secret. The only other person who knew the truth—Calvin Thorne—had vanished.
Despite this, he didn’t like the underlying current of tension spreading through Chicago. How long until it spread to other cities? If this thing continued, there might be countrywide panic. Panic bred fear, and fear bred violence.
Blake ran tirelessly, ignoring the lure of small prey in the undergrowth, which scattered in alarm as he ran past. The moon rose huge and pale, climbing higher in the sky, peeping out from between the pine branches which spread their prickly limbs above his head. Clouds skittered across the sky, the threat of rain thick on the air. And still he continued to run, the moon growing lower again, the sky beginning to lighten.
Eventually, he reached the outskirts of his hometown. He silently padded the streets, keeping close to fences and walls, staying as hidden as possible. He headed to his father’s house. There, he’d find clothes to change into after he shifted back to human form. The need to find clothing after spending a large amount of time in wolf form was a constant problem. He’d once considered creating some kind of pack to carry a change of clothing in, but, without the use of opposable thumbs, his options were limited to carrying things in his mouth, which wouldn’t work. He needed to pant to cool himself down on a long run, and having something swinging from between his jaws would only get in the way.
Morning was breaking
as sat down on his haunches on the back porch of his father’s home and willed his wolf spirit guide to separate from his body. Blake braced himself for the agony that followed. Bones snapped, muscles tore. He gritted his rapidly shrinking teeth as best he could, trying to stifle the howl of pain trying to escape his jaws. Such a noise would never go unnoticed by the neighbors. His skin burned as though on fire, every muscle in his body twisting and contorting into brand new positions.
With the change complete, he rose to his feet. The noise must have already alerted his father, for he heard the man’s footsteps approach on the other side of the door. With a baseball bat in hand, Lakota
Wolfcollar opened the door a crack before recognizing Blake and swinging it open fully.
Blake eyed the makeshift weapon. “Since when did you play baseball?”
The older man shrugged and propped the bat up beside the door. He grinned and pulled his son into an embrace. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon, Blackened Hawk.” He frowned at his son’s nakedness. “Or expecting to see quite so much of you.”
Blake removed himself from his father’s arms. “Let me go and dress, then you’ll see a little less.”
His father didn’t argue, stepping away to let him through. Blake headed down to his old bedroom. The sight of his old, single bed stopped him, his heart picking up a notch. The last time he’d been here, Autumn had been in that bed, half naked beneath him as his mouth traced the long lines of her body …
He was too naked to follow that line of thought. He needed to get dressed or risk seriously embarrassing his father.
Blake pulled on a too-small white t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Only his feet hadn’t grown since his teenage years, so at least his old boots still fit. Fully dressed, he made his way back through the rest of the house. An invigorating waft of fresh coffee filled the air, and he headed into the kitchen to where his father was brewing the caffeine.
“I’m looking for Chogan,” he said to his father’s back.
Old Wolfcollar turned to him. “I haven’t seen your cousin since you were all last here. I assumed he’d returned to Chicago with you.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s still in Chicago, causing trouble like always. But I was hoping he might be in touch with someone else on the reservation who might know exactly where he is.”
His father paused, and then said, “You shouldn’t be so hard on your cousin.”
Blake scowled. “Why not? You know what he did.” He wasn’t just talking about his cousin’s performance in front of the television cameras.
“Sometimes, when Chogan acts, he thinks he’s doing so for the right reasons. He thinks he’s trying to protect those he cares about.”
Blake snorted and folded his arms across his chest. “Protect? Chogan doesn’t care about anyone but himself.”
“That’s not true. There are things you don’t know, Blackened Hawk.”
Blake knew his father had deliberately used his given Native American name, trying to reawaken his links to the reservation and his family. His father wasn’t stupid.
“So why don’t you tell me?”
He shook his head. “Chogan should be the one to tell you.”
Unease bubbled in his stomach. “Tell me what?”
“I told you, this is something he needs to tell you himself.”
His unease broke into anger and he slammed his fist down on the kitchen counter, making the items on top bounce. “I can’t find Chogan!”
He witnessed something on his father’s face first harden and then relax into submission. When he spoke again, he did so softly.
“Shian was pregnant when she died, Blake. About nine weeks gone according to the autopsy.”
Blake felt like his father had punched him in the stomach. “With
Chogan’s baby?” he managed to choke out.
“No!” his father snapped. “Why do you always jump to the worst conclusions about him?”
“Because they’re normally the right conclusions,” he growled. He took a moment, allowing the enormity of what his father told him to sink in. “So the baby was mine?”
He nodded. “She didn’t know how you were going to react. You were both so young. Chogan was the closest person to you at the time, and he was her friend as well.” He must have caught the expression on Blake’s face and shot him down. “
Friends
, Blake. That’s all they were, all they ever were. Anyway, she asked him to walk with her that day to confide in him, wanting to get his thoughts about how to tell you. Then the accident happened and she never did get the chance to tell you herself.”
“She was pregnant. With my baby.” He repeated the words, trying to make them real to him. He held his father’s gaze. “And you never thought to tell me?”
“It wasn’t that easy. However close you were to Shian, you weren’t next of kin.”
“Chogan knew.”
“Your cousin didn’t want that knowledge. He came to me afterward, cut up not only about Shian’s death, but also about the secret he carried around with him. I took him to see Shian’s parents. They’d been told by the medical examiner, but they didn’t want everyone to know.”
“I’m hardly everyone!”
“She was so young and you guys weren’t even engaged yet—”
Blake snorted. “Oh, please. There are plenty of unmarried, young parents around here.” He thought of something. “No wonder they hated me.”
“There’s a slight chance the pregnancy brought on the brain aneurysm. With the increase of blood flow in the body, it might have pushed her body too far. That’s not to say the aneurysm wouldn’t have happened eventually, of course, especially with the knock to the head she sustained in the fall,” he quickly added.
Blake turned away, shaking his head, running a hand across his hair. “You still should have told me. I’m your son. Your loyalty should have been to me.”
“It wasn’t about loyalty. You reacted so badly to her death, I didn’t want to burden you with anything else. And then you took off. You haven’t exactly been around much since.”
He’d taken off for several reasons. He, Chogan, and
Shian had grown up together, but he and Shian had always had an extra bond, one that made the adults glance at each other knowingly and smile. He could barely remember the point where they’d gone from being childhood friends to teenage sweethearts; they’d just always been that way together. Of course, he remembered their first real kiss, the one that had finally bridged that gap, but it hadn’t changed how his heart had felt. He’d loved her since he could remember.
Once she’d gone, he couldn’t stand to stay in Big Lake Reservation. How could he function in a town where he still saw her on every corner? Where every tree reminded him of her? Where everything brought him pain? And then there was Chogan. Yes, he’d believed something had been going on between the two of them, something, it seemed, he’d been wrong about. But at the time, no one had told him the truth. He’d truly believed he would have killed his cousin if he’d stayed.
His thoughts went to his memory of the dark haired, doe-eyed girl he’d been in love with all those years ago. He’d kept no photographs of Shian, the early pain too much to bear. He only had his memories, the clarity of which had faded year upon year, leaving him only with a vague impression of her exact features. The memory of how he’d felt around her hadn’t changed though, the intensity of a first love rendered short with her death.
“You should have told me,” he repeated.
Furious and still in shock, Blake turned and slammed from the house. He needed to keep busy, couldn’t allow his mind to rest on the past. He needed to stay focused on finding Chogan. Yet he couldn’t stop his thoughts from drifting. Shian had been pregnant! How different would his life have been? He might have been married with a family by now, never having left the reservation. Instead, he’d have worked in some dead end but simple job, staying far away from the horrors of war and the corruption of the government. It would have been a life so different that he could barely imagine it belonging to him. Would he even have
been
the same person?
Blake worked his way down the street, thumping on the front doors of people’s homes with a balled fist, taking out his confusion and anger on the wood.
The hour was early enough for his banging to get people out of bed, so they met him wearing robes and angry expressions. His questioning about whether they’d heard anything from Chogan or not didn’t get him any more pleasant responses, with numerous doors being slammed in his face.
He reached his sister’s house. Would she even be there, or would she have stayed in Chicago with Chogan? From what the lioness-shifter had told him, it didn’t sound like Chogan had been aware of or happy about
Tala’s presence in the city. He hoped his cousin had sent her home with her tail between her legs.
He wondered if his sister knew the secret Chogan had been hiding from him all these years. Something twisted inside him. He hated being lied to, all these years of others knowing something he had not. Did finding out Chogan hadn’t been sleeping with
Shian make him feel differently toward his cousin? How could it not? Yet, he still didn’t believe Chogan was all innocence and light.
He banged on the door. “
Tala! It’s me. Open up.”
No response came. Was she ignoring him or was she not home? And if she wasn’t at home, did that mean she was still in Chicago? Or now she was a nurse, was she simply working shifts? Something gave Blake reason to pause. The house felt too empty.
He focused in on his wolf.
Go, into the house. Show me.
A bed
unslept in. Dishes in the sink, food long dried out on the porcelain. The place didn’t look as though it had been inhabited for a couple of days and the scent of human on the air was faded.
He didn’t think his sister had been here for at least a couple of days. She must still be in Chicago with Chogan.
Damn it
.
As if wondering the same thing, a neighbor opened his front door, taking in the sight of the big man standing on the stoop. “You looking for
Tala?”
Blake nodded. “Yeah, I’m her brother.”
The man narrowed his eyes. “I know who you are. I haven’t seen Tala for a couple of days. It’s not like her. I was going to mention something to your father, Lakota, today if I’d still not seen any sign of her.”
Blake frowned.
Tala wasn’t a shifter, something that had always eaten at her. If she was somehow getting involved with Chogan’s ‘revolution’, what part did she think she’d be playing?
Something about the situation stirred uneasily inside him. The combination of Chogan and
Tala wasn’t a good one.