Secret: Of Amber Eyes

by D. K. Davis

  “Well, you’re right about my aunt and uncle. I haven’t figured out what’s in it for them by me being here, nor have I figured out why you are hanging around me.” I stared right into her eyes, expecting some guilty reaction, but nothing. Well, something, her eyes glassed-over with water.

  “May I ask what you did to deserve this awful punishment?” She looked down at her half-eaten food and set the plate aside. “Or is that asking another wrong question?”

  After a moment I said, “A lot of things.” Relax time ended; I carried my plate to the kitchen sink. “I’m going out to feed the twins,” I interrupted Aunt Becka and Uncle Charlie’s conversation with Easton and Riley. I didn’t wait for a response, simply left out the back door.

  Seven prepared bottles waited on the table in the barn. Feeding must have been next on our day’s agenda. I picked up the bottle carrier and entered the fawns’ pen. Five little beasts licked, pawed at the ground, and bleated, sort of like sheep. I stuck a bottle between my legs and worked at wrapping my fingers around two in my right hand and two in my left. I kept dropping one out of my left fingers. When I attempted to pick it back up, the one between my knees bounced on the floor and then the one on my right side fell to the ground.

  Addison walked in. One of the people I didn’t want to see right now.

  “Here, let me take two.” She moved closer.

  It would be better, but why her? “Thanks.” I handed two bottles over and adjusted the three I kept, one in my left hand, one in my right, and one between my knees. It worked. The fawns finished eating in minutes. I stuck the empties back in the carrier and grabbed the two full bottles for Bambi and Faline. Addison dropped her two empties in the bottlerack and hauled it to the entrance of the little enclosure.

  “May I feed one of them?” She walked inside, closing the gate.

  This alone-time was supposed to be me-time, not her-time. “Fine.” I tossed a bottle to her. Bambi came to me first, so he got my bottle and Addison fed Faline.

  “These fawns look like they’re ready to join the others.”

  “Aunt Becka wants to keep them separated for a couple more days.” I kept it short and sweet, not a chance to turn sticky.

  The twins finished about the same time. Addison followed me out of the enclosure. I loaded the empties into the carrier. We walked through the larger fawn pen and into the barn.

  “So, what college were you planning on attending before you came here?” Addison asked.

  “I hadn’t completed my research on that.” I’d barely started the research when Mom got married, and everything turned south for me. “What grade are you going into?”

  “Sophomore.”

  “You seem mature for a tenth grader.”

  “You don’t seem old enough to have graduated, considering the green bubble fight.” She giggled, and so did I.

  My shoulders relaxed, and the tightness slacked off. I dumped the bottles in the washtub and placed those in the dry rack into the sterilization unit. Addison turned it on, knowing exactly how to set it.

  We walked out of the sterilization room, and the others crowded into the goat side of the barn, so we joined them.

  “You have awesome hair; so long, it should hang straight. You didn’t use a curling iron or hair dryer, but yet, it got wavy with spiral curls. Real shiny in the sunlight too, like a halo with the sun at your back.” Addison stayed next to me, determined to make me talk.

  The big barn door was open behind me and sunshine poured in, until someone gratefully closed it. How do I respond to Addison? No one ever commented on my mousy brown hair. No sarcasm inflection in her voice, but for some reason, Addison’s compliment forced a feeling of claustrophobia. “Thanks, I guess.” I wanted to leave, get a breath of fresh air, but Rowan broke from the group to stand beside me. Heat from his body rolled over me, holding me in place while also grounding me.

  Everyone else stood around a goat that Aunt Becka had Easton tie to the milking bench bracket. Addison slid forward into the group. Rowan patted my shoulder and then walked to the goat.

  I stood behind everyone but still felt included in the group and my aunt’s lesson.

  Rowan milked while Aunt Becka explained how to do it to Easton. Being his first year, he was the only one who hadn’t done it yet. Rowan stepped away and let Easton take over. Aunt Becka guided him as she had done for me the first time. Everyone cheered with his success, so I joined in too.

  The afternoon went fast. Aunt Becka took everyone to the smaller cages. They fed, watered, and cleaned out the pens.

  Addison hugged me before she climbed into the van. Everyone else had already gotten on the bus. Rowan stepped in front of me and opened his arms for me to step into, but I didn’t, even though I wanted his arms wrapped around me. I didn’t like being on display. The group left about 4:30 p.m., with Rowan driving the van that everybody called a bus.

  I collapsed on the porch swing. Closed my eyes and leaned back. The sun warmed my face. Not sure how long I’d rested there when I heard the phone ringing.

  Aunt Becka’s voice floated out the screen door. “Hello, this is the Connor’s Wildlife Refuge, Becka speaking, how may I help you? Yes, she’s here. Sure, let me get her for you.” A second later, Aunt Becka strutted across the porch and handed me their cordless phone. “Call for you.”

  I opened my eyes and took the phone. Aunt Becka scurried back inside. “Hello,” I said.

  “Hey, babe, do you miss me?” Kara’s sultry voice crept through me like a long splinter shoved under my fingernail. “Come on, sweets. Don’t tell me you’ve found another little ginger fox to fool around with because I’m not there?”

  My insides cringed at her insinuation. “Why are you calling me?”

  “Are you kidding me? You’re my whore-girl. You don’t talk to me in that tone. You live to lay with me; you got that.” She sighed. “You and I got some unfinished business.” She laughed an evil dribbling sound that made me feel like I’d been violated and in the thralls of a nightmare.

  “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “Look, I told you not to use that tone with me. I have expectations, buttercup. Be warned.”

  The phone clicked. Kara had hung up.

  Stunned, I sat there with the phone still gripped in my hand. Minutes later, Aunt Becka came out to see if I was all right. “What are all the tears about?”

  Did she say tears? I looked toward her and discovered my vision blurred with an overflow of them. I wiped my face and got an arm full of snot to add into the salty mix. Aunt Becka came prepared with a box of tissue. She must have seen me through the window.

  “It can’t possibly be all this bad.” She sat next to me, wiping a tissue down my cheek. She handed me one for my nose.

  Words stuck in my throat. I couldn’t get them to move past the lump imbedded there. Aunt Becka put her arm around my shoulder and squeezed me in a hug…of sorts. She smelled of earth, animals, and whatever she was preparing in the kitchen. Earlier, Addison had said loving and caring. I sensed all of those attributes in my aunt.

  Only to me, she was my prison keeper, but maybe not my enemy.

  * * *

  The sun had moved closer to the tree line, so guess I’d slept for a while. Aunt Becka sat in silence with me, rocking the porch swing back and forth with her feet.

  “I’m not sure about anything anymore,” I said.

  “I’ve dumped a lot of information on you today, but I refuse to keep secrets. It’s high time you know your family history. Do you have any questions?” Aunt Becka grabbed my hand and held it.

  “Probably is, but at this point, I don’t know where I would start. Maybe it would help to know who’s a shifter and how I’ll identify one on my own?”

  We both heard the vehicle coming up the drive, saw the dust rising, and then an old brown truck stopped near the porch.

  “Looks like we’ll need to put this chat off for a bit, but I’ll give you what I can and I know someone who can give you even more
information when you’re ready.”

  A large man climbed out carrying a box and waved as he came up the porch steps.

  “Evening Becka, I brought the bear claws you asked me to pick up from town.” He set the box on the table in front of us with the sales slip and his signature; ‘Sh-a.’

  “Thanks, neighbor. Let me get you some cash.” Aunt Becka headed toward the door. “Oh, this is my niece, Morgan…Morgan this is Sh-a, our good-hearted neighbor.”

  I stared at the sales receipt with his signature. “That’s how you spell your name?”

  “Yeah, just like it sounds.”

  “Sha – dash – a,” I pronounced each part of his name separately. “Yeah, guess you’re right. Just never saw it spelled that way. Actually, I’ve never heard that name before today.”

  When he smiled, I noticed his crooked teeth, some broken off and some stained brown. His gray hair looked shaggy and greasy. He moved fairly agile for a big man.

  “You staying here for a while then?”

  “Yeah, through the summer.”

  “Becka sure got excited to think you wanted to come and stay with her and Charlie. She said it had been about ten years or so since the last time they got to have you. Said her sister kept you away. Broke Becka’s heart.”

  That was a curious thing to say. Mom kept me away from Aunt Becka. So different from what Mom said to me. And from what Uncle Charlie shared they had wanted to bring me up as who I am, not who I am not.

  Aunt Becka came out with Sh-a’s money. “Here you go. Thanks for doing this for us. You know you’re welcome to stay for dinner if you’d like.”

  “No thanks, gotta be scootin’ along. Been havin’ some trouble with coyotes in the early morning hours. I want to set up some motion cams that Charlie loaned me the other day. Want to see if I can figure how many of them critters I’m dealin’ with. My dog, Clyde’s been chasing them away from my sheep, but it’s a matter of time before they figure out a way to break through my fence when Clyde ain’t around.”

  “See you later, Sh-a.”

  “Nice to meet you, Sh-a,” I added.

  “It’s nice you’re here for Becka and Charlie.” He winked a faded blue eye and shuffled out to his truck. Sh-a drove off with a wave out his window and a honk of his truck horn.

  “So, what’s a bear claw?”

  “You’ll find out Saturday morning when the new kids come. It will end up being something you’ll search for and never be the same after.” Aunt Becka laughed.

  “New kids? I thought the kids only came on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

  “These are the kids coming from Grand Rapids and staying at Jason’s Kid Kamp. They’re older, receiving college credits. I never pass up a chance to help a student learn the ways of nature.” Aunt Becka patted my hand. “I’ll get supper ready; it’s past time to eat.”

  Just then Rowan’s yellow truck drove up, leaving a dust trail behind. Goosebumps scurried up my arms. Would it be Rowan or Oakly?

  * * *

  Rowan

  Morgan stood statue-still on the porch, and Becka had an arm around Morgan’s shoulder as they watched me drive toward the porch.

  Leo had the results of Morgan’s bloodwork already but hadn’t given me any information. He said my dad needed to know first as Pryde Overlord and that he would make the phone call shortly. Leo had given nothing away; if the results determined a shifter or not, the info might as well be in a sealed vault. Dad had promised to call me afterward.

  Becka waved as I pulled up to the porch and got out of the truck. I waved back, and then Morgan smiled. My heart stumbled out an extra few beats.

  “I stopped at my favorite sub-sandwich restaurant and picked up dinner and some drinks for us, Morgan. That is if you’d like to go eat in the woods by the creek and then maybe stop in the meadow to check out the deer after?” I waited at the bottom of the porch steps.

  Morgan looked at her aunt. “Would that be all right?”

  Becka nodded and then leaned in to whisper something to her. Becka glanced at me and said, “Watch over her, Rowan. She’s new to these parts.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Becka.” Morgan ran down the stairs, jumping off the next to the last one like a spring. “I’ve wanted to run through the woods all day. Let’s go.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Rowan

  I grabbed the bag of goods out of the truck, and we jogged around the house, taking the path toward the woods. Morgan wore a smile but remained silent. I slowed our pace. “Did you have a good day, meeting all the kids? It looked like you hit it off with Addison.”

  “Yea, I did have a good day, mostly, but then, well, your brother happened. My aunt shared some stuff that rocked my world, and Addison…” Her voice got softer and softer until it vanished. She kept walking, increasing our speed, her head downcast. Her breathing changed, and I sensed her anxiety.

  “Are you okay? Do you need to talk about something? Like what Becka said that rocked your world? I can’t imagine her saying anything that would turn your world inside out.”

  She stopped and turned toward me; her eyes searched mine. “She reminded me, that you’re like Oakly. Are you?”

  “Well, we are twins, even though he’s running a different path for the moment, I’d say we’re alike.” My chest went wild again, beats collided with beats, and I wondered if Morgan felt it also. “Why’d you ask?”

  “We share some similar blood.”

  Blood pounded through my veins and arteries at hyper-speed, my ears screamed with it. Did I hear her right? I dropped the bag of food, closed the gap between us, and then proceeded as my instinct directed. I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed her to me, holding on for dear life. My eyes automatically closed, and I filled my entire being with the scent of Morgan. I kept her against me for minutes, instinct driving me to hang on to her.

  “You’re shaking,” she whispered.

  I felt her eyes studying me before I opened my lids to see the strength in her hazel gaze. Our gazes connected. Something inside me melded with something inside her, and then her irises glowed amber, her skin hot to my touch.

  She shoved away from me. “What’s happening? Something’s pinging inside me, I feel it. What are you doing to me?” She moved farther back, her hand touching her forehead. “I’m blazing hot. Maybe I’m sick?”

  Her symptoms reminded me of the body preparing for a first shift, from human to cougar. “Calm yourself. Maybe your body is preparing to shift.”

  “I’m only a quarter shifter blood, according to my aunt. Her blood is half shifter, and she isn’t able to shift. I’m sure it isn’t that.” She sat down on the ground. “I’m dizzy, to the point of feeling faint.” She flopped backward, stretched her backside against the ground, eyes still glowing. “I’m afraid. I can’t move.”

  “What else did your aunt tell you about shifters?” I wanted her thinking about something other than her current symptoms.

  Her breath came in short, shallow pants.

  I stood over her. “Take deeper breaths, long, deep breaths, and then answer my question.”

  Someone whistled, and I sensed my father. He strolled along the path we’d taken into the woods. “Hey, am I interrupting something?” Dad’s head tilted as he glanced down at Morgan. His gaze snapped up to me. “Son?”

  “We embraced. Something happened between us that I can’t explain. We both felt a change inside. My body shook and still is, almost like a million spasms. Morgan’s eyes glowed amber, her body heated, and she got dizzy, so she laid on the ground, thinking that might help.” I looked down at her.

  “Her skin is red. What you’re describing is likely a first shift.” Dad kneeled next to her. “Morgan, can you hear me?”

  Her glowing eyes widened, but the expression on her face stayed the same, and her body never moved, as if paralyzed. She didn’t respond to Dad’s question.

  “I think we need to get her back to our place. If she’s stuck within a shift, we might have to take some meas
ures to unlock it. I’m going to call Becka and let her know what I’m doing. Carry her back to my truck; I parked in the usual spot for patrol shifts.”

  Dad pulled his phone out of his shirt pocket.

  “Morgan said she’s only one quarter shifter. She shouldn’t be able to shift.” I handed the bag of food to him before I picked up Morgan. Her body stayed stiff as I lifted her into my arms, like carrying a straight plank. I’d never seen anyone suffer from this type of reaction.

  “That’s not the report I got from Leo. This girl’s blood is a seriously pure strain of shifter, and it’s pretty much eliminated her human blood cells.” Dad waved me to leave as he made the call.

  I didn’t understand what Dad meant by ‘seriously pure strain.’ He’d never used that term before, and I’d never heard it from anyone else. Mom could fix what’s wrong with Morgan, but Mom was in the U.P. for another few weeks. Maybe Leo could initiate the shift, or maybe Becka could heal Morgan.

  My stomach dropped when her eyes found mine, the glow in them softened, but the pleading in them rang loud and clear in my senses. I picked up my pace to the truck. Dad climbed in before I managed to lay her across the extended backseat. I sat with her head on my lap. She’d closed her eyes and appeared asleep.

  Dad started the engine, got on the road, and headed toward home.

  “What’d you mean by ‘seriously pure strain’ with Morgan’s test results?”

  Dad glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “I know her mother’s blood is the same as Becka’s. We can trace the strain and sometimes even the location of the Pryde from the DNA. Morgan’s DNA shows she’s related to a Pryde in the U.P. I believe Morgan’s father might be from there as her mother’s shifter DNA originated from this area.”