by Lisa Ladew
The woman in the back of the ambulance let out a loud shriek, pulling Trevor’s attention that way. “What’s her story?” he asked Blake.
“This is her shop.”
“Did she see him?”
“Maybe. If she did, it might have driven her mad. All she will say is that some bitch assaulted her and stole her stole.”
“What?”
Blake pulled out his notebook and showed Trevor a page. “I asked her to spell it. Stole her stole.”
“Who assaulted her?”
“I never saw anyone but her and all the girl scouts and their leaders, plus a few other witnesses. None of them were seriously hurt, and all their stories are a bit different but there might be one woman unaccounted for. I just hope she wasn’t fried, like Pickett.” He dropped his voice and leaned towards Trevor. “The paramedics say her only injury is a bite mark to her shoulder.”
Trevor’s eyes widened? “A bite mark?”
Blake nodded. “I smelled it. Fox.”
Trevor looked around, this new information burning his brain. “But there are no reports of foxen being on the scene?”
“None.”
“What about Pumaii?”
“Yeah, he was here, but he took off. Said he had to report to Kalista.”
“You didn’t stop him?”
Blake shook his head, his lips pressed together. “You know we have no jurisdiction over the Pumaii. He could have bitten me himself and I would have had to stand aside and let him go.”
Trevor growled, knowing that was true, but hating everything about it.
This was big, the biggest event to happen in his career, and he wasn’t going to wait very long to hear from the leader of the mercenaries who tracked Khain when he moved into the real world.
If he couldn’t hunt Khain down, he would settle for hunting down Kalista.
Chapter 8
Trevor physically held himself in place, trying to decide what his top priority was, but the sound of a new vehicle pulling up to the edge of the crime scene caught his attention. He wouldn’t have to hunt Kalista down after all. Her car, an obscene silver Bugatti Chiron, purred in the same way Trevor knew its driver did.
“Fuck,” he said on a huff of air, wishing the Chief would show up so he wouldn’t have to be the one to talk to her.
The car door opened and a six-inch white heel dropped into view. Trevor snatched his gaze away, looking straight ahead.
“The Light save the baby Jesus,” Blake breathed. “Who is that?”
“You never met a felen before?”
“No. I thought they lost all their females too.”
“They did, but Kalista is one tough female. She got sick. Almost died. She’s fought Khain directly a few times, some people think that gave her more strength than most of the females somehow.”
“How old is she?” Blake’s voice was lowered, and his eyes were on the approaching female.
“Not sure. Over a hundred and fifty, I’ve heard.”
“So she’s mated.”
Trevor knocked Blake in the back of the head. “Yeah, she’s mated. The felen don’t mate like we do, but they do mate, and they do live longer when they are mated, just like us. I heard her mate is a healer and that might have been what saved her.”
“She’s still so…” Blake ran out of words and his tongue poked out of his mouth. Trevor couldn’t blame him, but he could make fun of him.
He popped his friend on the back of the head again. “Get it together, Romeo, the felen are all like that. Even the males. Walking, talking sex and it won’t be any better once she gets here.”
Blake tried to look away but he couldn’t do it. A goofy grin spread over his face. Trevor still didn’t look, but he could imagine Kalista looking back boldly, giving him a half-smile, possibly biting her lip or running her hand up her neck into her hair. Ah, fuck, just what he needed.
She strode up to them and stopped. “Lieutenant,” she said, her voice thick and sultry, reverberating in the back of her throat and making him think of lips closing around his dick. The velvety softness of tongue and mouth…
He steeled himself and turned to her, ignoring Blake’s sappy smile. She was curvy and tall. Six feet he guessed, which put her seven inches shorter than him, but with those heels, she could easily look him in the eye. She wore a white, one piece bodysuit that separated into straps just above her breasts and crossed around her neck. Her dark, dappled hair was twisted up into a bun, her feline eyes watching him shrewdly, invitingly.
“Kalista,” he barked, not meaning to sound so harsh, but unwilling to follow in Blake’s idiot footsteps either, and the roughness seemed to be the only way to make sure he didn’t. Too bad he was positive Kalista liked it rough. She’d made that clear the only other time they’d ever spoken. “Where did your male go? We need a full report. And why weren’t we notified that Khain was on the move?”
“Relax, Lieutenant,” the female said, her lips pursing slightly on the words. “I’ve got your report. You were notified. Your dispatch was told immediately.” She raised her perfect eyebrows and barely cocked her right hip. “Are you saying they never called you?”
Trevor shook his head.
Kalista tsked her tongue, her facial expression barely changing. “Naughty dispatch. Then again, they didn’t have much time between when we called and the big explosion. That and we haven’t called them in years. Maybe some policy needs revising?” She turned her head and smiled at Blake, then turned her knowing eyes back on Trevor, dropping the cute act. “Something big is coming.”
Trevor sighed in relief at her change in attitude. “Why do you say that?”
Kalista motioned to the building. “He popped into our dimensionality about two blocks that way, went straight into this building, and popped out of our dimensionality shortly after. Plus he was trying to jam us, which he’s never done before. He had this planned, and the purpose of it was not to kill humans. In my opinion, he hasn’t finished coming after shiften yet, and this is part of it.”
“Jam you?”
Kalista sighed and rolled her eyes before she explained. “Normally felen can read Khain easily. We can roughly tell where he is even in the Pravus. We don’t know what the Pravus looks like or how it corresponds to our dimension, so roughly, I’d say we can tell if he’s still near Illinois or not. When he pops into our dimension we can hone in on him, figure out exactly where he is, but it takes some doing. We have to move around to feel exactly where the pull is. And we can read him. Not his exact thoughts, but his intent. But this time when he came over he was repelling and jamming us. I felt him immediately, like a constant scream in the night, but I was too far away to tell exactly where he was. Nalan was in the area, and he said that from this close, it felt like he and Khain were two like poles of the magnet that repelled, instead of two unlike poles, like it used to be. Like Khain had been messing with whatever he has inside him that lets us track him.”
Trevor nodded, then lifted his chin at Blake. “Meet your new like pole.”
Kalista’s eyes fastened on him and she drew closer to him. “Really? You were attracted to him?”
Blake blubbered for a moment, staring up at the felen before he managed to speak. “I-I knew where he was yes, and I felt him come here. I could hear him too.”
Kalista took his arm and purred into his ear. “How fascinating. I really must talk to you more. Figure this mystery out.” She led Blake away but before she had gone more than a few steps she turned back. “Lieutenant?” She nodded at the building. “The explosion? He didn’t do it.”
Trevor stared hard at the building, the surrounding storefronts, his crew and the patrol officers investigating and cataloguing everything.
If Khain didn’t cause the explosion, then who did? How? Why?
Trevor gritted his teeth and felt them ache to grow long, his body itch to shift.
His wolf wanted out very badly.
***
Trevor headed back to the station, lea
ving his brothers and his crew at the scene to finish the investigation. He’d told Mac where to find him and that he wanted a full report the second the investigation was done. He’d told Blake to head to dispatch when he left and review the procedures when any felen called in with a location on Khain, and he’d given Kalista his cell, telling her he wanted a heads up the instant any felen so much as got a hint of Khain being on this side.
As he drove, he thought about the mysterious female that may or may not have been on the scene. One witness had described her as tall, with dark black hair and paper-white skin. No one else had seen her at all, and the lady who’d been bitten by the fox only screamed when asked about her.
Trevor fiddled with the buttons on his tactical pants, hoping she hadn’t ended up another pile of ash, or worse yet, been working with Khain. He knew Khain had supporters, but he’d never heard of a human being one of them.
Trevor pulled up to the station and parked his truck, then headed to an unobtrusive door on the side of the building. He stood in front of the lock and waited for it to read his retina and open, resisting the urge to blink, to pull back, to run screaming through the parking lot. He hated that eye-scanner thing.
The door opened only for long enough for him to slip inside the dark hallway. He pulled his arms and legs in quickly, before the door slammed on them. Only one person could pass at a time unless it was two moving quickly, that was one of the heightened security features of the outside door.
Trevor walked fast, his footfalls echoing in the cool chamber. The hallway slanted down, taking him straight where he wanted to go, the underground tunnels. He twisted left, then right, then around, until he found the room he was looking for.
He pushed open the wooden door, noting by the smells that came at him that Wade had been the last one in here, two, maybe two and a half weeks ago.
The only history the shiften were allowed to record were all in this room. Three hundred and eighty four thousand and two prophecies, most taken down centuries ago. Only a few had been recorded in the last thirty years, but that was the section Trevor headed for. He needed to hear the One True Mate prophecy again, see if there was any reference to them being called The Promised.
He knew there wasn’t. He had the prophecy memorized, but he would not trust something so important to his memory. If Khain were hunting down the One True Mates meant for the shiften, that would change everything.
Trevor pulled out the DVD recording he was looking for and stuck it in the DVD player over the small TV in the corner, then turned everything on and sank into the overstuffed lounge chair, his mind spinning.
An older wolfen appeared on the screen, sitting in an easy chair, his head back, his eyes closed, his hands soft and relaxed on the arms of the chair.
“Hi, Dad,” Trevor whispered, feeling sorrow gnaw at his chest and throat. He should have had so much time with his parents still, but his father had been older than his mother, and when she had been murdered, his father had only been able to hang on for three more years. This was the last prophecy he had ever received. He’d died of old age or a broken heart four days later. To shiften, they were the same thing.
Trevor had been five when his father had died and he’d gone to live permanently in the war camps, but he still had a few memories of the man. Of his mother, he only had impressions. Softness, a smile, a scent of warmth and love.
Trevor shot to his feet, unable to stand the warring emotions within him. He stalked across the room, hearing growling coming from himself, but unable to hold it back. He surrendered into a violent shift, dropping onto all fours, his clothes and gun falling onto the floor as his powerful body changed into the big black, silver, and gray wolf with the white boomerang on its left shoulder.
The wolf snarled wildly and hit the door at a run. He needed to bite, to fight, to claw and kill. But his only blood enemy, the demon known as Khain, was nowhere to be found, so he ran, ran through the cool, dark tunnels at top speed, ran for miles, body stretching to the limit with each extension and flexion. Each time he came to a dead end, where a wolfen’s family home was, he turned around and went back the way he came to take a different shaft, his claws on the concrete and the sound of his tearing breath echoing back to him.
When he finally returned to the prophecy room, it was at a slow walk, his head and tail drooping. He had met no one during his departure from sophistication, and that was probably a very good thing.
Trevor shifted wearily back into human form, anticipating needing to open the door with human hands, but Wade was already there holding it open for him, the expression on his face saying he knew exactly what Trevor had been doing and why.
“Thanks,” Trevor said dully.
Wade shoved Trevor’s clothes at him. “Get dressed. We have a problem.”
Chapter 9
Ella stumbled over her own feet again, walking swiftly around and around her neighborhood, as the late afternoon sun began to drop behind the houses to her west. She steadied herself, looked over her shoulder, then slunk off into the grass to one side of the sidewalk. Her legs were aching. She’d probably walked twelve miles since escaping from Mrs. White’s shop.
The cool grass welcomed her as she sank into it with her back against a tall white oak tree, glad to take her weight off her legs, but terrified to not be on the move. She couldn’t go home though. What if someone was following her? What if he was following her?
“No,” she said under her breath. “No one followed me. There was no one to follow me.”
She took a deep breath and looked around, hoping the stillness and saneness of the cool day would reassure her that she was right. What she remembered could not have happened. A fox stole could not have come to life and bitten Mrs. White. She could not have caused a man who touched her in Mrs. White’s shop to shoot backwards twenty feet through the store with enough force that when he hit the front wall, he destroyed it all. Even if that was what it had felt like.
She had to have imagined all of that, right? Maybe she should go to the hospital. Check herself in. Maybe her sister was right, and she was crazy. Maybe her mother had always been right, and she was dangerous too.
Ella held her head and moaned deep in her throat. If she had imagined what happened today, had the man been real? Had she done something crazy in front of people? Had she torn through Mrs. White’s store and left by the back door? Why couldn’t she remember that part very clearly? Had Mrs. White really pulled a gun on her? Maybe the police were looking for her right now, for… for trespassing or something.
A small part of her mind tried to get her to think about the incident seventeen years ago. The one she’d somehow relived earlier that day, but she refused to do it. She refused to go there. Refused to consider the fact that the boy on the swings and the man in the shop had been the same person. Even though she knew they had been. That voice.
Ella squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will her brain to stop working. She stood and looked hard at the winding path that led to the small park near her house. No one was following her!
She stepped onto the path and walked briskly home, refusing to let herself look over her shoulder, trying not to cry.
***
Trevor pulled his clothes on quickly, securing his gun and badge, ready to head back out as soon as he heard from Wade what was going on. “What problem? Is he back?”
Wade dropped into an office chair near the small desk to the left of the door and held up a hand. “Relax, son. He’s not back. I need to know when the last time you were bound was.”
Trevor stopped in the act of lacing and tying a boot. “Bound? What? Why?”
“When I bound you earlier, what happened, after I let you go, I mean?”
“That’s when the building exploded downtown and I ran over there.”
Wade shook his head. “No, son. What happened to you? What did you feel? What-what kind of thoughts did you have?”
The desire to eat a bullet came flooding back to Trevor and he grimaced. “I d
on’t…” he mumbled, trailing off.
Wade stood and waited for him to finish tying his boot, then straighten. “May I?” he asked, holding out his hand. Trevor just stared. Wade waited him out. Finally, Trevor’s hand floated up on its own.
Wade took it with both of his hands and closed his eyes, drawing something from Trevor. Trevor was only too happy to let whatever it was go. The drawing felt good, soothing. Wade’s hands were warm and dry, with latent strength pulsing in them.
When Wade opened his eyes and dropped Trevor’s hand, Trevor did not like the expression he saw on Wade’s face. A combination of pity and sadness. Trevor waited though, a deep exhaustion settling in him. He knew there was no running from this.
“Grey abused you,” Wade stated, his voice flat, emotionless.
Trevor startled at the name. He hadn’t thought of Grey in fifteen years, since he’d escaped the camps and gone rogue until he was old enough to join the force. He walked away from Wade in the small room. “Yeah, he was a tough, crazy, old fucker. But he abused everyone.”
“Most of them got to go home when their fathers weren’t working though. Not you. You were at his mercy. He never should have treated you the way I am afraid he did.”
Trevor looked up sharply. He had no real memories to sort through of his time in the camp. He had buried all of that years ago, with such animosity his mind never went there.
Wade followed him. “How many times did Grey bind you?”
Trevor shook his head. “I don’t remember.”
“What did he say to you when you were bound?”
Trevor stopped pacing and stared the old shiften down. “I don’t remember!”
Wade held up his hands. “I’m sorry. I know you have a lot going on right now. I’ll deal with this. We can talk later after I find Grey, get the story out of him. But I want you to know that I will be sending word out to the Citlali that you are not to be bound. I should not have done it to you earlier. I sincerely apologize.” Wade hung his head and whined deep in his throat.