He knew that as soon as they were married his own powers to shift would probably stop or wane. That was how it was for the Wild Keepers. As soon as they were mated they turned over a new leaf. But he wouldn’t miss it. He had served for a long time, and he was ready to pass the baton over to the newest recruit. He would miss all his brothers, of course. Especially Thad. But he was ready to start his new life with this woman.
In fact, he couldn’t wait.
He had a special surprise for her tonight. One that he had been organising for a while.
“Drink up,” he said, draining his cup. “We have to go.”
***
Sienna walked into the restaurant on Zach’s arm. She still didn’t know why he had insisted on taking her here tonight, or why he had said she had to dress up. But she trusted him implicitly, and he had said it was going to be a good surprise. One that she would love, in fact.
She stared up at him. He looked so handsome in his new suit that she had chosen. In fact, he was the handsomest man in this whole place. She still had to pinch herself that he was hers. That they were about to get married. And that she had this whole new, beautiful life that she was free to carve out any way that she pleased.
The freedom was intoxicating. Every morning she woke up she breathed the scent of it anew. And if it hadn’t been for him, none of it would have happened.
He had been destined to come into her life. The man of her dreams, who she had been waiting for forever.
He led her to a table in the corner. An old woman with long white hair swept up in a top knot sat there, staring up at them nervously. Sienna smiled at her, then turned to look at Zach. Who was she?
“Sienna,” he said slowly, gazing at her. “I want you to meet your grandmother, Violet.”
Sienna gasped, staring at the old woman. “I don’t understand,” she stammered.
“Sienna,” said the old woman, blinking back tears. “I thought I would never see you again. You are so beautiful, just like your mother.”
They sat down, and the old woman took her hand. Sienna could barely speak as she gazed at her. How was this possible? She had always been told that she had no family.
“I told you that it was a good surprise,” said Zach, taking her other hand. “I got Thad to make some enquiries. He found Violet for me.”
“I thought you had died in that car crash with your parents,” said Violet, in a tremulous voice. “Otherwise I would have raised you as my own.” She paused, overcome with emotion. “I know now that it was the demons who did it. They killed your parents because they were close to exposing them.”
“What?” said Sienna, feeling the blood drain from her face. “How is that possible?” Fitzpatrick had raved about demons killing her parents in a car crash, but she had dismissed it as his way of trying to goad her. Then she remembered his face as he had watched her transform. He had known, somehow.
The old woman sighed. “Sienna, they were shapeshifters, just like you. And just like me. You come from a long, proud line of eagle shifters.” She gazed at Zach. “We have battled the demons over the years just like the Wild Keepers have.” She took a deep breath. “I have seen you as you are now, but I never believed that you were alive. I thought my visions were tricking me.”
The tears fell down Sienna’s face. “You can see the future too? You have visions?”
The old woman nodded. “We are seers as well as shifters.” She was overcome with emotion. “I never thought that I would live to see the day when I would gaze on your face, my darling girl. Welcome to the family.”
Sienna got up, pulling the old woman into her arms. She was soft and yielding and smelt like roses. Her grandmother. A shifter and a seer, just like her. Just like her parents had been. They hadn’t given her up because she was a freak. They had been exactly like her, and they had never wanted to leave her.
She saw that she was deserving of love. That she had always been deserving. She was strong, and powerful, and now she had a grandmother. A family, at long last.
As the two women cried in each other’s arms, Sienna gazed over her shoulder at Zach. He was watching them both with tears in his eyes.
He has given me everything, thought Sienna. My life. My pride. My power. And now he has given me my family as well.
She reached out to him over her grandmother’s shoulder, wanting him to share in this moment. He hesitated then took her hand. She pulled him to them both, and then he was enveloped in the embrace as well.
Sienna took a deep breath. Everything had come full circle. Her life was just beginning. A life that she had never dreamed possible. She couldn’t wait to dive into her future. A proud shapeshifter—with her man by her side.
Forever.
Book Five
Chapter One
The desert. Ten years ago
The man panted heavily as he crouched behind the shrub. Sweat oozed down his neck like molten liquid, despite the cool of the night. He reached behind his head and swept up a single rivulet with a shaking hand, staring at it pooling on the end of his finger. Spellbound, he could barely reef his eyes away.
They were coming.
He knew it in every pore of his forsaken body. Almost on a cellular level. He had managed to get this far, but it wouldn’t be long now before they noticed that he was missing. The desert in the night was cold, but it was also dark, and he had no idea of where he was or what direction to go in. He blinked twice, trying to orientate himself to the environment. The shaking was so hard it seemed to shudder through him in waves, jerking him like a puppet on a string.
He gulped. His throat felt parched like gritty sandpaper. He was out of shape, and he was old. The run had taken a lot out of him, and he had barely travelled any distance at all. He glanced behind him, seeing the lights in the distance swaying in his vision. Too close. He had to try to get as far away as he could, even if it was a fool’s errand.
He stood up, trudging through the sand, feeling it swathe his bare feet like warm water. It was strangely comforting, and for a while he focused his mind on it, letting everything else go. One foot in front of the other. That was all he needed to do. Who would have thought that the vast desert could be welcoming?
One foot in front of the other. At least it wasn’t day, when the heat of the sun would be overwhelming. At least at night he could escape its implacable glare. At least at night he could scurry through the darkness like any of the desert creatures that traversed these endless dunes. If only he could see where he was going he might even have a chance.
But the sand stretched on forever. He knew it. His heart plummeted with the knowledge, but he didn’t stop. Even when his lungs felt like they were about to explode, he didn’t stop. His only companion was the mournful howl of a coyote on some distant hill, calling for its pack. The sound was almost heartbreakingly beautiful. His eyes filled with tears listening to the melancholy warble. How long had it been since he had been outside, able to fill his eyes and ears with nature? Too long. So long he couldn’t remember the last time.
He grimaced, feeling the hot flash of memory probing at him. No. He didn’t want to remember. The days that slid into each other, one folding on top of another like a deck of cards. The isolation. The pain. The sickening knowledge that eventually they would come for him. In the time that he had been there, he didn’t think that they had spared him even one day.
He took a deep breath, trying to squash it all down. If he had any chance of getting away, he needed to stop thinking about it and concentrate on what he was doing. It was that simple and it was that difficult.
He had given all that he had to them, but it was still not enough. It would never be enough. They would keep twisting him and turning him like a sponge until he was wrung hollow. He had tried to comply but nothing he did was ever what they wanted. He knew that he would simply die from exhaustion if they didn’t kill him first. One day they would decide that he was invalid. He had seen it happen before to others.
He frowned, blinking in
to the darkness. Was it a mirage? There seemed to be an actual road ahead of him. He could see the shape of it snaking through the sand. His heart filled with joy, and he started running toward it. If there was a road, there could be traffic! He might be able to hitch a lift with someone.
The bitumen was rough beneath his feet compared to the softness of the sand, but he gritted his teeth and endured it. He glanced down at himself, appalled to see that his clothing was rags. If anyone did decide to stop for him, they might well drive off straightaway when they saw what he looked like. But it was a chance he would have to take.
For ten minutes, he walked the road, fighting back the waves of fatigue that washed over him. But he knew he couldn’t do it forever. Eventually he would have to veer off the road and collapse if nothing came along soon.
And that was when he heard it. He stopped, straining his ears. No, he wasn’t mistaken. It was the sound of a car driving down the road in the far distance.
He looked quickly behind. Yes, he could see the faint glare of headlights as the road dipped and curved. It was approaching. His heart leapt again.
And then, it rounded a corner, the headlights pinning him like the eyes of a desert creature shining into the night. He squinted, trying to make out the car. Something big by the look of it, and by the sound of the engine. A gas guzzler that they so loved out here. Once upon a time he had owned one himself. But all that was a lifetime ago.
He stuck out his thumb, in the eternal gesture of the hitchhiker. But the car didn’t advance. It stopped, as if staring at him. Pondering him. Considering him. Almost like a predator staring at its prey.
His blood ran cold. It was them. He just knew it.
He ran. Desperately. The car advanced slowly towards him, seemingly in no hurry. He filled his lungs with air and sprinted trying not to look behind. But he could see the pools of the headlights constantly ahead of him, and the sound of the engine purring in the night.
They were coming.
And then he heard the revving of the engine and the wheels screeching as they gained momentum. As he felt the impact of the car fling him into the air and he flailed helplessly, he knew they would make him pay for this. He would hit the ground, but they would stitch him back together to make him suffer some more.
It wasn’t over. It was never over.
***
The mountains. Present Day
The man who was once a Wild Keeper stepped out onto the wooden porch, taking a deep breath, filling his lungs with the pure air. His eyes strayed around, checking if everything was in its place. The fishing rod leaning against the railing. His tackle box. All present and correct. The simple apparatus that made up his life now.
He picked them both up, stepping down the rickety wooden stairs. The lake was only five hundred metres away and glimmered like a dream on this fine summer morning. Sometimes blue, sometimes green, sometimes a combination of both colours. There was probably a name for the colour when it combined, but he had never been good with such things. And quite frankly he couldn’t be bothered even stretching his mind that much to try to find the exact word.
The air was still cool as he walked the length towards the lake. The trees crowded him on all sides, the leaves swaying gently in the breeze. He could hear the trilling of a variety of birds on the branches, a cacophony of song that seemed to rise to the heavens. Once upon a time he would have thrilled to hear them, but now they were merely background noise. Just another part of the day, as much as the eternal sound of cars and trucks had been his background when he had lived in Covenester.
He found the spot that he liked, on a slight embankment, carefully twisting the bait on the end of the rod and hurling the line over his shoulder and towards the lake. There was a soft plop as it hit the water, settling into the depths. He sighed, feeling it twitch slightly then still. The fish hadn’t been biting much lately, but that didn’t stop him. It was like a ritual now. Even on the days when the sadness and pain laid him low, he would force himself to come out here and do this.
Sometimes he would catch something for his dinner. Sometimes not. On the days that he didn’t he would scour the cupboards for a can of something, barely registering what he was eating. On the days that he did catch something, he would fry it lightly in butter and eat in solitude on the wooden porch, tossing the bones into the bushes.
Once he had heaved when he had missed a fine bone and it had caught in his throat. He knew what to do, of course. Eat a piece of dry bread until it slid down his gullet. But for a while he had sat there doing nothing, almost willing the bone to lodge there forever. It had almost been a tangible physical pain that took his mind away from the other. But eventually his survival instinct had kicked in and he had dislodged it.
As he sat watching the sun play over the water, he almost wished now that he hadn’t bothered.
He scratched the side of his face, feeling the now familiar itch beneath the hair that sprouted in all directions. Having a long beard was challenging. He had never had one before, and it was hot and itchy. He had no idea what it looked like; what colour it was, or how it grew, and he didn’t care. He hadn’t looked in a mirror since he had come here. He might have sprouted another head on his shoulder and he wouldn’t have cared. Vanity was a thing of the past, like so much else.
He knew that his hair was getting too long too. He had found an old hair tie in the cabin one day and taken to simply tying it back so that it didn’t annoy him. Maybe one day his hair and beard would grow so long that they would overtake him entirely. A mountain man, pure and simple. He smiled, liking the vision.
The sun had risen high in the sky now, and he could feel sweat running down his face. He glanced down at the faded flannel checked shirt and old khaki trousers he wore. They were too hot for this weather. He should really go into town one day and buy himself some clothes that were more appropriate for summer. It had been winter when he had come here and the last thing on his mind at that point was if he had the right clothes to last him his life up here in the mountains.
He glanced behind, staring at the log cabin that he now called home. It was basic and plain, but it did the job. He didn’t need anything more. And the best of it was the location in these mountains. It was so remote that he rarely if ever saw another living soul. Just the way he liked it.
The rod twitched slightly in his hand. He stilled, his eyes narrowing. But whatever had decided to nibble at the line hadn’t taken the bait. He let out his breath, settling into his thoughts once again.
Once a month he would drive the beat-up Chevy truck he had acquired into the nearest town to stock up on supplies. He always dreaded it, leaving it to the very last minute when there was barely a can left in the cabin. Coyote River was the name of the town, named because of the coyotes that lived in the mountains. Once he would have loved it, thinking it apt. Now the name reminded him of all that he had lost.
His own pack. The Wild Keepers. His mouth twisted, and the familiar feeling of guilt and shame clouded his mind. He took a deep breath, trying not to think of them. But it was impossible of course. It had been all that he could think of in the long, lonely months since he had been here.
He had been a screaming mess after it had all happened. Barely able to function. The city had seemed to crowd in on him. Every street, every diner, every downbeat bar had been a reminder of his life. And then an old friend had offered him this cabin in the mountains, a fishing retreat that his mother had inherited, and he had grabbed it like the only buoy in a choppy ocean.
And he hadn’t left since. Only to travel to Coyote River for supplies to keep his body functioning, something that he often had trouble remembering how to do. All of it seemed useless, but it was what one did, he supposed. Breath for the lungs. Food for the stomach. Clothes to keep you warm or dry or cool.
The line twitched suddenly, and his hands grasped the rod tighter. It wasn’t letting go. He felt a surge of adrenaline, standing up to wrestle the rod. It was a big one. He strained against it, feel
ing the fight of whatever was at the end of the line. This could be it. His dinner.
It wasn’t easy. He hauled it eventually onto the bank, staring at the fish flopping for its life against the grass. Long and silver and fat. He could almost taste it already, the flesh firm and juicy from the purity of the water. There was nothing like the fish in these unpolluted mountain lakes.
He stared down at the fish, unhooking it. It was so big it would last him for a day or two at least. But gazing at it fighting for its life he suddenly picked it up, grasping it so it didn’t slip from his fingers. Without even knowing why, he turned and placed it back in the lake, watching it disappear into the blue depths. Swimming away from him forever.
He sat back down, automatically placing more bait on the hook. He felt irritated now, wondering why he had done such a thing. But the sight of the fish desperately flinging itself on the grass had moved him in a way that he simply couldn’t understand.
“Go well, fish,” he muttered to himself, gazing over the water. “Live well.”
He hurled the line back into the water as a single tear rolled down his face. He brushed it aside sharply, angry with himself.
It was all useless. Loss upon loss until it all merged together into one big blur in his mind. And saving one stupid fish wasn’t going to change any of it.
***
The day it happened had been like any other day. He had woken up and dressed. He had been working on some case that he couldn’t even remember the details of now. He had let himself out of the warehouse earlier than usual. The others hadn’t even been awake by then, so he had never had a chance to say good bye to them.
His mind had been focused on finding a replacement for Zach, who had recently left the pack, after finding true love with Sienna. It wasn’t easy. The Wild Keepers had been beset by loss in the last few years, as one after the other the members had found their mates and left. First Caleb, then Evan. Shay. And lastly Zach. He had to scour for replacements for all of them, but he had done it.
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