First Awakening [Diablo Falls]

by Alexx Andria

  I was painting a harsh picture for a newborn but I had zero love for the genetic pairing. The pairing of my parents never should’ve happened. My dad was an evil dick and my mom had been soft and weak. There’s no way she would’ve picked him if it’d been her choice.

  But the pairing doesn’t care about personalities or character flaws — it just calculates favorable DNA matches.

  “The upside is you’ll rarely get sick,” I said, throwing her a bone. “Once you fully transition, the molecular structure of your cells become super charged and only the healthy cells remain.”

  “That’s a plus,” she said but I could tell she was still troubled by the pairing information. I get it, I hate it, too. Lyric looked to me and followed with, “what if I hated who I was paired with?”

  “It happens and it’s awful,” I admitted, remembering my mother’s tears and the last time I saw her. I swallowed. “But it’s rare. The genetics mess with your head, too. Usually, the pheromones kick in and you fall in love. Makes it easier to keep the pairing intact.”

  “I don’t like the sounds of any of that.”

  “That makes two of us.” I wanted to change the subject but I felt kinda bad that she was all alone with no one to talk to about what she was. I wasn’t the right person for the job but I was the only person at the moment. “Hey, tell me about Rachel. Was she dating anyone? Did she have any enemies? And what the hell is up with this town? It’s like a fucking mecca for supernaturals. I’ve never seen so many in one place.”

  “Obviously I can’t answer about the town, I had no idea that I was living in a supernatural hot bed. All I know is that cell phones rarely work, GPS gets stupid, and because of that, Diablo Falls isn’t exactly a hotspot tourist attraction. We’re kinda forgotten in the world’s eyes, at least it feels that way.” She drew a deep breath for strength. “As for Rachel, she wasn’t dating anyone and I don’t know that anyone hated her so much that they’d want her dead. I mean, she was a diva, for sure, but is that a big enough crime to kill someone over? Seems a little much.”

  I murmured in agreement but involuntarily, I lifted my nose as if scenting her essence and I caught the minute musk of her vagina, sweet and untamed.

  Jesus! What was wrong with me? I’d never been so affected by a female before and it was pissing me off. I didn’t have time for this bullshit.

  “Right. What about her parents?”

  “Loaded. Maybe they pissed off the wrong people. I don’t know. They’re a weird bunch. The McCormicks are pseudo-science lovers. Maryann loves her crystals and incense and George is your standard egotistical businessman who thinks he’s woke because he likes to throw around buzz words like ‘toxic masculinity’ and ‘social economical equality’ but in truth, he’s just like every other capitalist who makes their fortune off the backs of others.”

  “Sounds like a real dick.”

  I shrugged. “He was all right. He wasn’t a pervert or anything like that as far as I know but he and Maryann had just decided that Rachel needed to build some character before leaving for college and insisted that she get a summer job.”

  “Sounds reasonable.”

  “Not really, not when they’ve been doting on Rachel her entire life. It really put Rachel into a tailspin.”

  “So why the change?”

  “Belinda,” I answered with distaste. “Their emotional and spiritual guru.”

  “What the fuck is that?”

  “I don’t know but she creeps me out. She was at the funeral and tried to talk to me, kinda like you, but she was even creepier.”

  “I’m never going to live that down,” I said.

  “Nope. Approaching someone at a funeral was real top shelf behavior,” she snarked.

  I chuckled. “Okay, I deserve that. Tell me more about this Belinda character. Where’d she come from?”

  “No clue. Rachel just said that her parents were enamored with this new spiritual advisor and she was making all sorts of changes in their lives, which for Rachel weren’t so great. Her parents cut off her allowance to a trickle, then there was the job requirement, oh, and I guess her parents built a house for Belinda on their property because they said they needed her guidance on a full-time basis.”

  “That’s not weird at all,” I said with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

  “Right? Yeah, and then Belinda comes up to me, says some crazy weird as shit and then looks at my palm and cryptically calls me a ‘special soul.’ What’s that all about?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, making a mental note to check out this Belinda woman. “Got a last name?”

  Lyric searched her memory then said, “Ergo. Belinda Ergo.”

  I nodded, committing it to memory. We pulled over and parked. From here on, we’d have to walk.

  The forest beneath the Devil’s Crown was primal, old and vibrated with secrets both past and present. I heard the whisper of ancestors in my bones as well as the energy of something deeper, throbbing beneath the earth.

  I looked to Lyric. Her gaze had glazed and she seemed entranced by the same energy that was buffeting my senses and urging me to shift. “Are you feeling okay?” I asked, concerned.

  She shook off the reverie and her gaze cleared. “Yeah? Why?”

  “Maybe this isn’t a good idea for you to come with me,” I said. “Whatever energy pulses beneath this town seems to be affecting you and I don’t want to be held responsible for whatever could happen.”

  She scoffed at my advice. “If you’re telling me to stay behind and wait in the Rover, you’re stupid. I’m coming. I told you, I feel fine.”

  I had a feeling this was going to end badly but I also knew, nothing was going to stop her.

  I shouldered my pack with supplies and growled, “Try to keep up. Let’s go.”

  Lyric

  My head was swimming — I was processing a lot and frankly, still questioning why I believed any of it — but the hike to where Rachel’s body was found was a steep one and it took all my energy to keep from falling on my face.

  Beckham kept a brisk pace but I was able to keep up. The pine smell tickling my nose was sharp and spicy but I could also smell the pungent earth beneath my feet. Memories from the dreams mingled with reality and my gaze darted at every sound as my heightened senses were suddenly aware of everything that hid from sight.

  Rabbits, moles, gophers, birds, insects — even the damn trees seemed to throb with sentient life and it was overwhelming. I stumbled on a rambling piece of bracken in the trail and Beckham caught me as if I were nothing.

  “D’oh!” I exclaimed, the minute his hands touched my bare skin, a sizzle of electric energy coursed up my arm and we both jumped back as if we’d been scalded. “What was that?” I demanded. “Did you feel it, too?”

  Beckham wasn’t happy. “Just keep walking. And stay on your feet.”

  He wasn’t going to answer. He knew more than he was telling me. I chased after him, peppering him with questions. “Am I going to wolf out or something? Do I get a warning first? How does it happen? How do I know that I’m about to change? I’d like a heads up if I’m going to suddenly turn into an animal and try to eat a rabbit.”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted sharply. “I knew you should’ve stayed behind. This land is practically vibrating with energy I’ve never experienced before. I don’t know what it can do to a newborn.”

  “I feel weird,” I agreed, flexing my arms out in front of me, searching for any evidence of sprouting fur or growing claws. “But it’s more like…actually I feel amazing. Like…I did in my dreams. Invincible. And kinda hungry, which is saying something because I haven’t had an appetite in days.”

  Beckham paused to regard me with a serious gaze. “I need you to focus. If you shift here, I’ll have to shift to keep you safe and I don’t have time to babysit you.”

  She looked insulted. “I don’t need a babysitter. I’m not a child.”

  “No, worse, you’re a newborn shifter. Now, come on, the place is just
up ahead according to the paperwork.”

  He could go from hot to cold in an instant. One minute he’s trying to charm me and the next he’s biting my head off. The jury was out on my opinion of Beckham Carter.

  Sure, he was good-looking for an old guy — actually, he was really good-looking. I guess I hadn’t really paid enough attention when he first came around but now, I was noticing all sorts of things I missed the first go-around.

  Like, those dark eyes were hella sexy.

  And those muscles in his arms were just the right amount of hard and bulge-y.

  I sniffed at him. What was that smell? Better than cologne but more subtle than aftershave (plus he had a beard so he clearly didn’t shave). Maybe essential oils?

  Beckham stopped short and I nearly ran into him. “Are you sniffing me?” he asked abruptly.

  I opened my mouth to deny it but I nodded instead. “You smell really good. Makes my head kinda woozy. And when I look at you, sometimes, there’s a ring of color around the edge of my vision that when I blink goes away. Am I having a stroke? Have shifters ever stroked out when they were learning how to do this supernatural stuff?”

  He muttered an expletive under his breath and his gaze traveled back in the direction of the Rover before swiveling his head toward our destination, which was right around the corner. “Of all the damn fucking luck,” he said, shaking his head. “Un-fucking-believable.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Just try to keep your hands to yourself, okay?” he bit out and I jerked back from the snarl in his tone.

  “Hey, asshole, you were the one who sought me out and now you’re acting like I’m some kind of stalker. Check your attitude, dude. You’re not a daisy to be around when you’re being a dick. The only reason I haven’t bailed yet is because, well, you’re the only person I have to talk to about this freaky shit.”

  Beckham had the wild expression of a trapped animal, drowning in the response hormones that said ‘fight or flight if you want to live’ and I could feel the anxiety rolling off him in waves.

  My heart rate kicked up a notch and heat suffused my body. It was already hot as fuck and now I was having a heat flash? Nice.

  “Stop,” he demanded but I didn’t know what he wanted me to stop doing. “I don’t accept this. I’m not doing this.”

  “Doing what? Are you losing your mind?” I pushed past him, determined to keep walking, maybe because my insides were doing a weird flippity flop and my skin was starting to burn beneath the top layer. There was something familiar about the burn — an anticipation that felt delicious and uncomfortable at the same time.

  “You’re unbelievable,” I muttered, breaking out into a clearing. I could smell Rachel but not Rachel as she’d been — alive, happy and way too fond of vanilla body spray — but as she’d ended.

  I sucked in a wild breath, closing my eyes at the sting. I could smell her death. The remnants of her blood, that which had seeped into the soil and been absorbed by the earth, called to me. I dropped to my knees. My fingers curling in the ground beneath me.

  My grief hit me like a vicious roundhouse kick to the jaw. Who had done this to my friend? I shuddered at the wave of nausea. Someone had ripped her apart. Someone had ended her in this place. She’d died alone and afraid.

  I heard a low growl and I turned to see Beckham in a crouch, watching me with a hunger that scared and thrilled me. He looked bigger, stronger, more virile than only seconds before. My nipples hardened to points, my groin heated with slippery wetness. Before I could whisper, “What’s happening?”

  He launched himself at me. We rolled to the forest floor. I landed on my back, Beckham above me, his dark eyes black as pitch and not human in the least.

  His expression was pure hunger blanketed by a thin mask of civility that I could tell he was struggling to maintain. Something inside me thrashed like it was trying to escape but I wanted to wrap my legs around Beckham’s torso and ride him like a bucking bronco.

  Beckham was trying to stop. His face turned red from the strain of denying whatever he was fighting. With a roar, he pushed himself off me, scrambling away, putting distance between us. I rolled to my feet and went into a fighting stance but a wild thrill tickled my insides.

  “Listen to me carefully,” he said from between clenched teeth. “I need you to walk — don’t run — back to the Rover and drive yourself home.”

  “What?”

  “Listen to me! I can barely hold back what is about to happen if you don’t and I don’t want it anymore than you do.” He tossed the keys at me. I bent to pick them up, still confused. How the hell was he supposed to get back to town if I took the Rover? “Don’t worry about me. I’ll find my way back. Just go.”

  “But—”

  “Fucking go!”

  I startled at the violence in his tone. A part of me wanted to stay and help but the other part, maybe the human part of me, wanted to get the fuck away before I ended up like Rachel.

  I backed away and forced myself to walk slowly and cautiously back to the Rover. I didn’t look back until I was safely inside, key in the ignition. With some distance between us and no longer in that forest, I was able to think clearly again. My heart rate had returned to normal and I no longer felt as if I needed to tear off all my clothes and start running.

  But that didn’t comfort me in the slightest.

  What the hell had happened back there? Was it the forest? Was there something in the ground, a chemical, a vapor or some kind of voodoo that made shifters turn crazy?

  Was that what’d happened to Rachel? Some crazy shifter had accidentally killed my friend because they were intoxicated by whatever was floating around beneath Blackwater Mountain?

  And what about Beckham? Fucking dick.

  He’d wanted me to come with him and then freaked out and sent me away like I was the fucking Plague.

  He had a lot to learn about manners. He’d acted as if I were suddenly poison and he had to get away from me or else I’d contaminate him.

  Screw him.

  I turned on the Rover and didn’t feel the slightest bit bad that he’d have to walk back to town.

  It was the least he deserved for being such a weird, irritating, bi-polar head case.

  With a fabulous ass.

  Yeah, my gaze seemed drawn to that hard, tight package. He had squeezable buns, okay?

  Okay, maybe old guys weren’t entirely gross.

  There was something about Beckham that wasn’t so bad.

  When he wasn’t being a douche, which was about twenty percent of the time I’d been with him at this point.

  Those weren’t great odds.

  But he was the only person who had the answers I needed so that meant, I had to put up with his mood swings.

  The only upside, the view of that ass.

  “Rachel, you would approve,” I muttered, glancing upward toward heaven. “I wish you were here to tell me what to do.”

  And that was the damn truth.

  Lyric

  Beckham didn’t find me again until the following day. Somehow he managed to get my cell number and call me, asking to meet up at the library. I agreed but only because it was a nice public place and I couldn’t avoid him forever.

  For one, I still had his Rover.

  I knew before I saw him that he’d walked into the building. My senses prickled and my head snapped up, locking eyes with Beckham. He looked normal again. No more crazy-eyed lunatic shouting at me to get away from him. He seemed the same guy who’d tried to charm me at the diner but I didn’t know which version of Beckham was the real deal.

  He took a seat opposite me at the study table and started off with an curt apology.

  “I forgot my medication back at the motel and it was my mistake. I apologize for scaring you. It won’t happen again.”

  “You didn’t scare me,” I returned, reaching for my coffee to take a sip. I was controlling my urge to give him a piece of mind. I wanted to give him a chance to explain himself b
efore I went nuclear. I hit him with a level stare, clarifying, “You pissed me off. There’s a difference.”

  “Yeah, I suppose there is. Either way, I’m sorry. I know you don’t know me but I don’t usually find myself in the position to apologize this many times.”

  That, oddly, I believed. “So do you want to level with me and tell me what was actually happening yesterday?”

  Clearly by his expression, that was not on his list of desirable options but when he realized I wasn't going to let it go, he relented. "Look, to be honest, I don’t know what happened. I don't understand what is happening to myself much less you. All I can do is apologize and promise that it won’t happen again.”

  “How do you know? What if—”

  “I told you I have a condition I take medication for,” he cut me off, shifting with discomfort. “I forgot my meds and well, something happened.”

  “That would’ve been more convincing if you hadn’t specifically implied that I was part of the problem so if I'm part of the problem don't you think it's only fair to me to tell me what I did?”

  “You can’t just let this go?”

  My silence was his answer. He ground his jaw but after a long tense moment he sighed and came clean. “All right, I know this is gonna sound crazy and trust me my head is still spinning over this newest development as well but it would seem that we have some kind of connection.”

  “Yeah, I’ve noticed that," I agreed, peering at him with questions. "So what does that mean? Do you think were like brother and sister or something, maybe an uncle? Are we connected like that? I mean like you said, I am adopted. Could you be my brother? Oh God, hopefully not my father."

  Particularly when I had un-daughterly thoughts about that physique. Gahhh, the horror if it turned out we were related!

  Beckham looked as repulsed by the idea as I was. "I'm not your father. I can promise you I am not a blood relation of any sort.“

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God for that. I was starting to feel sick."