“My son. You killed my son.” He repeated the mantra as he focused on the space in front of him with an absent stare.
For a few minutes, Darien didn’t dare move. He froze where he fell, staring at the father of his former roommate. Susan walked past him, offering a small nod before she made her way to Erik’s father. She placed a hand on his shoulder and he jumped, eyes snapping to her face. For a moment, his jaw clenched and he looked ready to destroy someone, but the emotion fled when his eyes focused on her smile. He reached up with both hands and grabbed her arm, twisting so he held it in front of his face, and started to sob.
Now that the immediate threat was over, Darien got up and reached up to his face to explore the damage. His lips were cut and he could taste the blood in his mouth, but his jaw felt fine. Some part of him wanted to go over and try to comfort Charles, but an equal part of him wanted to run away and never have to face this. What do you say to the man whose son died trying to help you?
Taking the middle ground, Darien went into the kitchen to fetch some water. While he was standing near the sink, he scooped up some water and rinsed out his mouth. Then he filled a glass. Darien took a couple of deep breaths before trusting his hands enough to carry the water back to the living room. As it was, it shook when he crossed the threshold and saw Charles sitting against the wall, fresh tears flowing down his cheeks and Susan sitting next to him with a hand still on his shoulder.
Darien walked over and offered the glass of water to the older man. He looked up and for a moment, a flash of fury crossed his face. The skin around his eyes tightened and he sucked in a quick breath. But he let it go and his shoulders slumped as he sank against the wall. With a weak hand, he reached out and took the glass, gulping down half of the liquid before putting it down. The silence that followed was awkward, and Darien was afraid to try and fill it. He wrung his hands together, feeling an urge to move but having no direction to go. Susan was the one who attempted to bridge the gap.
“How long have you known?”
“I think… I think I always did. When Erik…”
He paused for a moment, his son’s name choking him up and making him stop talking. After a few deep breaths, he took another drink and deep breath and then continued.
“I was told right away. I immediately tried to contact you, to hear your side of what happened. I was told you were with him when... I wanted to know more. The details I got were sparse. When you died just a few days later, I knew there was more to the story. From there, the more that I looked at things, the more it all started to fall apart.
“I never stopped looking. I needed to know. I kept an eye out for any occurrences of your name. I called in a few favors and eventually, someone told me that you had been registered as a special guest for Fort Lewis, I flew back to Washington and came here right away.”
There was another shuddering breath that filled the silence as Charles lifted his gaze to stare Darien in the eyes. His free hand at his side clenched into a fist and the glass trembled in his other hand.
“Now tell me. Why is my son dead?”
Darien tried to gather his thoughts into some sense of order as they swirled around in a morass in his brain. How much should he share and where should he begin? Did Charles know about shifters and what Darien was? He’d already caused enough pain and damage; he didn’t want to drag Charles into more.
“Erik is dead because he wanted to help me.”
The words just came out, as if his mouth moved of its own volition while his brain was still scattered. He didn’t know what he was going to say before it came out of his mouth. Charles deserved to know the truth. Or at least as much of it as he dared to share.
“What do you mean?”
“There was a group of people that were after me. I don’t know much about them, but they were trying to kidnap me and take me captive. When Erik found out, he offered to help. A couple of the people took him and Susan hostage and were trying to use them as leverage to get me to go with them.”
Charles glanced up and in Susan’s direction. She nodded and squeezed his shoulder. He turned back to listen to Darien continue his recounting.
“When we tried to get away from them, there was gunfire in the street. I don’t know what they told the public, but some of the people involved were in the Seattle police department. As we were piling into a friend’s truck, that’s when Erik got shot.”
He paused to let Charles absorb the words, not wanting to brush over it and patronize the emotions. Truth be told, the recounting of it and seeing Erik’s father dug up the emotions in his own mind and he felt like a vise was crushing his chest, making it difficult to breathe. When Charles nodded, Darien let the flood of words continue.
“After that, Susan and I figured we needed to disappear. I thought it was the only way that I could keep friends and family safe. Susan wasn’t going to leave, so we decided to disappear together. I know some people who arranged it, making sure to cover our tracks as best as they possibly could. And ever since then, we’ve been on the run, trying to stay just one step ahead. When we ran into some trouble, the special agents showed up and fished us out of it. We got a little banged up, so they brought us here to rest and recuperate.”
“Are you saying some Seattle cops shot my son?”
“Yes. They were working with a guy from Washington D.C. His name was…”
“Lieutenant Olson. Erik told me about him and asked me to check on him. It was one of the last things that we talked about. I was told that the officers in the Seattle police department were following his orders.”
Darien nodded. That was about as much as he knew about the situation. Some part of him wanted to ask more about Lieutenant Olson, and if he was connected with the current agency seeking him out. But, now was not the time to ask those questions. This time was for Charles, and what he needed.
“That doesn’t tell me the most important thing. Why are people after you? What is it about you that has you under military protection? Why was my son even in this situation in the first place?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
Charles pushed himself up against the wall, curling a leg underneath him. He put the glass down on the carpet and shrugged Susan’s hand off of his shoulder.
“What do you mean you can’t tell me?”
“You have to trust me on this, I can’t.”
Charles launched himself forward, covering the few feet to Darien and grabbing the shirt in both of his hands. He pounded onward, heaving and using his momentum to lift Darien up off the floor and slam him into a wall. He was not a large man, but his rage lent him strength and the drywall cracked from the force of the blow. He pulled back and slammed Darien against the wall multiple times.
“Tell me! I deserve to know! My son died!”
“I can’t tell you because you’ve lost too much already!”
With those words, Charles sank against Darien, falling into him and pinning him with the wall by the sheer weight of his body. He began to sob once again, and Darien reached out and put his arms around the older man’s shoulders, not knowing what else to do. The raw emotion and the memories they pulled up made Darien’s eyes start to water. When he sniffed, the sound triggered something in Charles. He stood up and wiped his eyes, looking down and shifting his gaze around.
“Where’s your bathroom?”
“Down the hall, first door on the left.”
Charles nodded and shuffled down the hall to the bathroom, his shoes scuffing against the carpet as he didn’t attempt to lift his feet. Susan came over to stand next to Darien and interlaced her fingers with his, squeezing them and making him look at her.
“It isn’t your fault.”
Those words trudged up the emotion more than he thought was possible after all this time. He tried to open his mouth to protest. It may not be his fault, as he was not the one who pulled the trigger. But, if it wasn’t for him, Erik would still be alive. That was something that he would never be able to let go of. Ch
arles’s rage was justified, and he wanted nothing more than to submit to whatever punishment his friend’s father deemed necessary.
None of this came out, as he opened his mouth and tried to say words but only managed to gape like a fish. Susan shushed him, squeezing his hand and wrapping her body around his. He hoped she knew how much strength she gave him over the years and was still giving him every day.
“Thanks, Suz. I’d be lost without you.”
The door opened and Charles came back out with a freshly washed face. For the first few steps, his gaze was fixed on the floor, but when he got back to the couple, he lifted his eyes.
“I’m sorry for my behavior earlier. I don’t know what I expected to happen, but I needed to come and see you. When I saw you standing there, I lost it. All I knew was that Erik died because of something you were involved with. I needed answers. I still do.”
The last words came out as barely more than a whisper. How much he wished that he could tell Charles the entire story, but it would make things worse. Even if Charles did believe him, that knowledge would make him a target.
“Please, you need to let this go. I don’t want anything to happen to you because of me. What happened with Erik was more than I could bear.”
Susan pulled on Darien’s arm guiding him to the couch in the room. After he eased himself into the cushions, Susan walked over and guided Charles to the chair opposite the small coffee table. Once both of the men were seated, she grabbed the cup and went to the kitchen to refill it. By the time she returned, silence still reigned supreme. Her presence served as a catalyst to restart the conversation.
“I know that you’re concerned for my welfare, and deep down, I know that you’re not responsible for Erik’s death. There was a time when I wanted to blame you, but that’s misplaced. It would be easier if it was your fault, but…”
Charles reached up and gripped his forehead, massaging the temples.
“Looking into the lieutenant raised all sorts of alerts, and I was told by some very powerful people not to ask. I didn’t find much, but everyone has to get paid. If you follow the payroll, you can at least determine what branch of the government someone works for. Or at least, that’s what I thought. According to everything that I uncovered, Lieutenant Olson is officially not on any government payroll.”
“Do you mean it’s like he doesn’t exist, or something like that?”
“No, he exists. There are records where someone applied for his security clearance. He has levels that can’t be granted to a civilian, even with presidential authorization. But that’s the extent of the trail. He works for someone, but I can’t tell who.”
“Why are you sharing this?”
“Erik wanted you to have this information. He died because of it. The least I could do for his memory was make sure that you got it.”
Time passed and Charles looked into his cup, swirling the water so that it splashed up the sides and formed a small whirlpool. Darien watched him, trying to fathom what the other man could be thinking or feeling. It helped to distract him from his own thoughts.
“I think I should be going. I need some time to think things through.”
Everyone stood and Charles shuffled towards the door without offering any parting words. He didn’t even pause, walking to the street without a single glance back. Darien and Susan watched him walk to his car, keeping a silent vigil as he departed.
“Do you think he’ll tell anyone we’re still alive?”
“Not now. We can worry about that later.”
She pulled Darien back into the house and closed the door behind him. Once the outside world was shut out, he collapsed against her.
Chapter 14
Even before opening his eyes, Darien knew that he had slipped into the dream world that was his own private sanctuary. This field had been a second home to him when he was first learning about his abilities. Over the last few months, he had been steadfastly and deliberately avoiding it, trying to use as little of his gifts as possible in the hopes of keeping his curse from accelerating. He knew that the longer he was in the shape of an animal, the faster his mental degradation would be. What was unknown was whether or not using his dream-walking ability would also accelerate his decline into madness.
For now though, it served as a welcome reprieve. Here he could be away from the physical world and still free to let his mind wander as he thought through problems. Darien opened his eyes and looked at the field around him.
It was as it had always been—a large expanse of grass that was circular and about a hundred yards across. Large trees, mainly oaks, circled the clearing, blocking off all view of anything more than a couple of feet past the edge of the tree line. The grass beside him was about a foot tall, and soft underneath his body, acting like a cushion so it felt like he wasn’t even touching the earth underneath. The sky above had a few clouds that skirted across the skyline and shifted as a gentle breeze pushed them along and caused the trees to creak and groan.
It was warm enough that Darien felt comfortable without the need for a jacket or heavy clothing. That was the first trick that Alyssa had taught him, using his mind to influence his surroundings and create a comfortable sanctuary. As long as no other shifter came into the dream, it was his domain and he could dictate or manipulate every aspect.
The clouds grew a little thicker as his mind turned towards his recent experiences in the real world. Erik’s father showing up was something that he never would have thought possible, and it dredged up memories that he thought were long buried and dealt with. Even pushing the emotional impact aside, the reality was that now Charles could very well be in danger. And if he shared the fact that Darien was still alive, that would only put more people at risk. By now the clouds covered the entire sky and only grey light filtered through to illuminate the clearing. Lightning flashed, lighting up the backs of his eyelids and snapped him out of his mental wanderings.
Darien took a moment to focus on the environment around him, and the impending storm departed as quickly as it had come. The clouds overhead broke up into wisps that faded away until only a few wandering clumps were left. The sunlight was bright on his skin again, warming him and helping to soothe his spirit. It was a positive feedback loop, and for a few moments, he just enjoyed the sensation. Susan was right, they would figure out those problems at another time. There was little that he could do about Charles at the moment.
Instead, he switched his focus to his current situation with the government and the question of his working for them. On the surface, it looked like an amazing deal and one that would benefit both him and Susan immensely. The offer of protection alone was enough to make the arrangement a possibility. Everything above that was simply a sweetener to the pot. But that just made him suspicious. He had learned, often the hard way, that when things seemed too good to be true, that was often the case. Everything had a price associated with it. The hard part was determining what the true cost was.
As Darien’s mind continued to wander and become more abstract, he felt himself lifting off of the ground. It wasn’t so much that he was flying—something that he had done in the past simply for the sheer joy of it—but it was more like he was operating a camera as it panned back and took in a greater view. Soon the field was far below him, and he could see the forest stretching out in all directions, reaching towards the horizon. It extended beyond the limit of his sight, until the green melded with the blue of the sky.
Then he felt a slight resistance, like being pushed through the membrane of a bubble. It stretched and strained, struggling to contain his body, until he was suddenly free without a pop or a sudden lurch of movement. Underneath him was his dream world, the shelter that he had created in his mind and used over the years as a sanctuary to collect his thoughts, or in some cases a battleground to face his adversaries. Darien floated in blackness outside of his dream, and as he panned around him, he saw other bubbles containing miniature fabricated worlds floating all around him.
This must be what it was like when Alyssa was talking to him about traveling from one dream to the next! Darien’s pulse spiked in excitement as he looked around at the different worlds that were created. Some were vast deserts with scorching winds and twisting sandstorms, others were a cabin on a cliff far above the frothing waves crashing against the base. They ranged in color and mood from light and festive, to dark and twisted with creatures made of blackness chasing someone and reaching out with long grasping claws.
So many questions tumbled through Darien’s mind, and as usual, he had no answers. Were these dreams only for shifters, or were normal people’s dreams here too? How would he be able to find someone here? How would he be able to tell if someone had shielded their dreams to try and keep him from entering? It was like someone had opened up a new world of possibilities and set him loose in it without telling him any of the rules. Of course, if he had agreed to go with the Arm any of the numerous times Alyssa offered, he would’ve had training. Dreaming and dream-walking was not Richard’s forte.
At first, Darien tried to use his arms and legs to move. Perhaps it was like swimming, only in space rather than water. It didn’t take him long to realize he wasn’t getting anywhere and only managed to look foolish. So instead, he decided to think about where he wanted to go. So many things in his dreams were controlled by his thoughts, why wouldn’t it be the same outside of them, but still in the dream realm?
Soon he was hurtling towards a scenic dream bubble of a woman riding a white horse across a grassy plain. The woman jumped off and in midair shifted into a horse herself, running to keep pace with her playmate. She lifted her head as she ran and let her long white mane flow out behind her in the face of the wind.
Darien changed his thought just before crashing into the edge of the bubble and felt a lurch as he careened through the air to his left. The sudden shift would have caught his breath if he had any when in this form. After a few more jagged turns and sudden stops, Darien learned to control his speed with some measure of skill. While he wasn’t about to be able to do aeronautical acrobatics, at least he could navigate the maze of dreams while he skirted their edges and peeked inside.
The Torn Soul (The Sheynan Trilogy Book 3) Page 10