by Angela Foxxe
“I can support that.”
“I’m glad, because I’m going to need your help. I think I know how to find out where those children are, but I can’t do it alone.”
“I’ll done anything that you need me to,” he said, his smile beaming. “I’m glad to see the strong, feisty woman back.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you said that, because there’s something I need from you.”
“Anything.”
“I need you to share all the things that you have been saving for later. I need to know everything, because there might be a clue in what you have been waiting for the perfect moment to share.”
“Okay,” he said, his enthusiasm waning a bit at her request.
“And that’s not the only reason. I need to know. Because this is my life, and if I’m going to go into this full force, I need to know everything you know that has anything to do with the repatriation camps or with me personally. It’s my right to know and I don’t think waiting until I’m ready is a good idea.”
“I understand,” Paul said. “Can we talk in the truck?”
“That’s fine.”
“I just don’t want the kids and some of the others to hear it. Not because they can’t be trusted, but because we keep this place sacred, and I don’t want to cause any unnecessary fear.”
“I agree.”
“Good. Let’s make the rounds and say goodbye, and we’ll talk on the way home.”
He led her into the house without another word, but Sabrina didn’t notice. She was still stuck on how he had referred to his house as their home, and the overwhelmingly peaceful feeling that the words had given her.
Maybe Paul isn’t the only one that’s in love, she thought, following him inside and preparing herself for what was ahead. It was going to be a long night.
CHAPTER 12
It was almost an hour later when they had said all their goodbyes and finally gotten into the truck.
“Do you want to drive around some more and look around or go straight home?”
“I want to go to your home,” she corrected. “But you can take the scenic route. I think that you have plenty to share with me. I want to start with the comment about how you’ve been watching me for a long time. I want to know why, and I want to know for how long.”
Paul turned the key in the ignition, pulling away from the curb and going back down the long, winding country road the way they had come. He was silent for so long that Sabrina was about to ask him again when he finally spoke.
“I’m not the only one watching you, but we have been keeping an eye on you for a very long time.”
“How long,” she asked, feeling a little angry that he was still dancing around the truth instead of laying it out for her to do with as she chose. “I feel like you’re hiding something big from me, and I don’t like it.”
He sighed.
“I’m not hiding it so much as I’m trying not to pile a lot of information on you all at one time. There isn’t a simple answer to all your questions.”
“So, take it one question at a time. How long have you been watching me?”
He pulled up to a stop sign, taking the moment to look at her.
“A long time,” he said, letting out a huge breath when he did, as if he knew that his answer wasn’t going to satisfy her.
“How long?” she asked again, starting to get more upset.
Paul sighed heavily.
“Since your parents died,” he finally said, still parked at the stop sign.
She blinked, flummoxed.
“Since I was twelve?”
“Yes,” he said, turning his attention back to the road and continuing the drive.
“That’s fourteen years,” she said, incredulous. “You’ve been watching me for fourteen years?”
“Not me. I was only sixteen when your parents were murdered. But yes, the WereLions have been watching you since you were orphaned.”
“How is that even possible?” She stopped, looking at him as his words sunk in. “Murdered? My parents weren’t murdered, they died in a car accident.”
Paul shook his head.
“This is why I didn’t want to lay everything out in one sitting. There is a lot to take in, and just one thing is going to turn your world upside down. But this isn’t just one thing, and there is so much worse to tell you. I’m not sure that now is the time.”
“I don’t think that we have the luxury of waiting until I’m ready. I’m never going to be ready to hear proof of why my parents were murdered and didn’t in an accident like I was told.”
“Do you remember much about the group home that you were in?” Paul asked softly.
“Not really. It’s just a blur of kids playing and teasing each other, having to share a small space with so many other girls, and going to counseling all the time, because I was angry at the world for what happened to my parents.”
Paul nodded, sitting quietly for a moment before he finally spoke.
“I think it would be better if we talked at home. This is a lot, and I don’t know if I can get through this without being able to hold you.”
Sabrina shook her head vehemently.
“I don’t want to be held right now. I’m angry and confused, and I need space to process the things you’ve already said. If it gets much worse, the last thing I’m going to want is to be held.”
“I understand,” Paul said. “I’m sorry about all this, I really am. I feel like I’m going to destroy your happiness with everything that you don’t know. You’re a strong woman, but I don’t think that many people can handle what I’m about to say.”
“Just say it,” she said through gritted teeth. “Just start from the beginning and tell me everything.”
She looked over at Paul, watching him grip and release the steering wheel in frustration, staring straight ahead at the road, his breathing measured yet ragged. What he was about to say was clearly weighing on him.
“Paul, please. I need to know.”
“Do you remember much of your childhood?”
“Before the orphanage? Of course. We lived in Denver, and I had a pretty great childhood. My mom was a homemaker and my father was an engineer.”
“Do you have any specific memories? Do you remember going to the park, having dinner? The way your house smelled? Playing in the snow?”
Sabrina thought back, but came up empty.
“I guess I blocked that out, too.”
“You didn’t,” he said. “None of it’s true. You never lived in Denver. In fact, before you were twelve, you had never stepped foot in Colorado.”
“I don’t remember living anywhere else.”
“I believe you, but it’s not the truth. You were born and raised in Dallas, Texas. Your mother wasn’t a homemaker, she was the pianist for the Dallas Symphony Orchestra, and your father was a Cellist. When you were born, they took their act on the road, playing classical covers of contemporary songs. They were wildly popular, and they traveled all over the eastern half of the country.
They would play in a different city every weekend, spending the rest of the week traveling or exploring the area. By the time you were five, you were joining them onstage, playing the tiniest violin like a seasoned soloist. Adding you to the act only made the group more popular. They took a year off to enroll you in Kindergarten, but it didn’t go well, and you were so unhappy, they decided to home-school you instead and stay on the road.”
Sabrina could feel his gaze on her, but she didn’t look at him. She was staring at her hands, trying to take in everything he was saying, even as her world was crashing around her ears.
“Does any of that sound familiar?” he asked softly.
“None of it,” she said, her voice miserable. “But I believe you.”
“You do?”
He was clearly startled.
“I do. I believe you because I can play the violin. I can play the piano too, but not the way I can play a violin.”
“I’m surprised you were allowed around
any instruments. I imagine that playing one might bring back memories that no one wants you to have.”
“It wasn’t at the orphanage, it was a few years ago. I was driving around and saw a music store, and I just wanted to go in. I had nothing better to do, so I stopped and I went inside. There was a nice man in there, and he asked me if I wanted to try anything out. I told him I was just looking, but he said that music is best experienced with our hands and hearts and not our eyes. He handed me a violin and I started playing, fully expecting it to be an embarrassing experience, but it wasn’t.”
“They wiped your memories but they forgot that music is a muscle memory thing as well. And violinists use a part of their brain that many people cannot. Decker wouldn’t have touched that part of your brain because he wouldn’t have known that. It’s a more recent scientific discovery.”
“But I could play, and I mean really play. I played for an hour, and I still hadn’t repeated a song. My fingers flew over the fingerboard, and the bow felt like an extension of myself.”
“Did you buy the violin?”
“No. I thought it was a fluke and that I would get home and it wouldn’t be the same.”
“Why did you think that?”
“I don’t know.” She looked at him, her eyes haunted and hands shaking. “Paul, what’s going on here.”
“What about the hand to hand combat skills,” he said, bypassing her question entirely. “Where did those come from?”
She shrugged.
“I have no idea. I’ve always had them, and I assumed that it was something I learned as a small child.”
She looked at him again.
“What happened to my parents? And what about the other kids in the orphanage.”
“They were like you,” he said slowly. “Their parents were like yours. And like your parents, they were murdered.”
“No,” Sabrina said, starting to but the pieces together and not liking where this was leading. “There’s no way.”
He nodded.
“I’m sorry, but it’s true. Your group, the kids in the orphanage, you were the prototype for Decker’s army.”
“No,” she said. “That’s not possible because Annie started the repatriation program.”
“She started the current program. Her program includes the human parent in the process.”
“But why? That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Because you’re his only success. The rest of the kids that were with you imploded. His program either didn’t take and turned them into a bumbling mess or vegetables. You are his one and only success.”
“But he was going to kill me, you said so yourself.”
“I did, and believe me, we were just as shocked. Didn’t you think it was odd that you were relatively low on the totem pole, but Decker always seemed to be involved in your life?”
“I never thought of it. I thought he was involved in all the missions.”
“No, just yours. He let the rest of HLF run itself while he focused on you and improving the shifter army protocols.”
Paul gave her a few minutes to process that before he spoke again. Her heart was racing, and she was struggling to hold onto her composure. She didn’t even remember what her parents looked like, but it seemed as if they spent every waking moment with her.
“Why can’t I remember? Why am I the only one?”
“Decker believed the same thing that many of us do. You were raised with only your parents for company, and you were happy with that setup. You’re a loner at heart, and that made for a perfect recruit. The other children were all raised in more typical ways, and they looked to their peers for guidance.
You were strong-willed and independent, but you also lacked socialization and some of the more standard human experiences. When you lost your parents, you lost everyone you had ever loved. Because of that, Decker was able to use that to turn you into the soldier that he wanted you to be.”
“But I applied for a job with HLF. No one recruited me.”
“When did you apply?”
“A few years ago.”
“Do you remember applying?”
“No, but-”
“How long did you work there?”
“For a few years.”
“How many? Two? Three? Ten?”
“I don’t know when I started working there.”
“What about your apartment? When did you move in?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where did you live after you left the orphanage?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Do you see a pattern here?”
“This can’t be real. I’m not a brainwashed killing machine. I’m a human being and-” She stopped. “Wait, if he’s building an army of shifter hybrids, then why me?”
She looked at him, at the look on his face, and shook her head.
“No,” she said. “That’s not possible. I’m not a shifter. I’ve never shifted before, and I would know if I was.”
“Your mother was half WereLion.”
“No, I don’t believe you.”
“The reason that you didn’t know your grandparents is because both sides disowned them. Your mother’s parents didn’t like your father and your father’s parents hated shifters. They forbade their son from marrying your mother, but he did it anyway. His family was furious and never spoke to him again.”
Sabrina was looking at him, waiting for him to continue.
“I feel like there’s something more,” she said finally. “I feel like it can’t get worse, but I know it can, because I see it in your eyes. None of this explained why they picked me. I’m what, a quarter WereLion? I can’t even shift and the only real talent I have is that I had no idea I was a musician. What could Decker have wanted from me?”
“Revenge.”
“I don’t understand.”
Paul’s lips were pursed in frustration.
“I wish you weren’t forcing me to tell you this. I’ve struggled with telling you this very thing for a very long time. I wish you would believe me when I say that this might destroy you.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You’re already not fine,” he said angrily. “You’re trembling, your face is pale and you look like you’re going to bolt at any second. I can’t tell you, Sabrina. I just can’t.”
“Please, Paul. I’m begging you. The more you tell me the more I realize that I can’t remember a day when I didn’t work for HLF. What I thought was a few years was probably my entire adult life. I’m twenty-six and I can’t remember actually going to college, even though I have a diploma on my wall. What’s worse is, I can’t remember hanging the diploma on my wall. I don’t remember buying furniture or picking out my wardrobe. It’s like I was dropped into my life and took up residence as if that was normal. I don’t even know who I am.”
“You’re Sabrina. Your name is really Sabrina.”
“Sabrina Coates?”
Paul clamped his jaw down.
“That’s what it is,” she said. “It’s about my last name. Was my father royalty?” she asked, half-joking.
“To some, it probably felt that way. Tell me, why did Decker start HLF?”
“To combat the injustices committed against humans by shifters.”
“You just recited the slogan. What was the event that caused Decker to decide that there was a need for HLF?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do know,” he countered. “At least you did at one point, and the answer is in your head. But I know that you can’t remember.”
“So, tell me.”
“Your name is Sabrina Decker,” he said slowly.
Sabrina looked him, completely floored.
“Your father was Ted Decker. Tom Decker is Ted’s older brother.”
“This can’t be real.”
“Tom Decker is your uncle, and Annie Decker is your cousin.”
Sabrina put her head in her hands, trying to keep herself from flying apart. She shook her
head over and over, silently denying what she knew was true. She didn’t know when Paul guided the truck to a stop and parked, and she didn’t hear him undo his seatbelt to slide across the bench seat when his arms went around her, pulling her onto his lap so he could cradle her in his arms.
She lost it then, tears streaming down her face, her anger and confusion causing her to tremble with rage. Still, he held her, silently protecting her from the storm that was brewing inside her.
“But he was going to kill me.”
“He was going to kill his own daughter. He killed his own brother.”
“He did?”
“He murdered Ted, and he murdered Aria. He invited them to his home when your family was touring in Denver. He offered to bury the hatchet and convinced your brother that their parents had been the only reason he hadn’t contacted his brother from afar. He told them about Annie, and how Annie would never have a sister and he wanted the two of you to know each other.
Your father believed him, thinking that your grandparent’s death had changed Tom. So, he brought you all here, and when you and Annie were asleep in Annie’s room, he murdered your parents, framed your mother for murder-suicide by a deeply troubled interspecies lifeform, and he used their deaths as his platform for officially starting HLF. He made a big show of adopting you and keeping you out of the limelight.”
“But I never lived with him.”
“You didn’t. That’s true. When people started questioning where you were, he finally ‘admitted’ that you had witnessed your mother going insane and killing your father, and that you had to be institutionalized for your own safety.”
“He killed my parents and he used that to gain sympathy for his cause,” she said angrily. “And then he worked alongside of me without saying a word. He knew who he was, and who I was, and I didn’t know a thing.”
“This is where we need your help.”
“I don’t understand. Of course, I will fight Decker. I won’t stop until he’s dead.”
“I believe you, but that’s not the most important thing. At least, not right now.”
“What is?”
“The place where you were kept, the orphanage?”
“Yes?”
“That’s where the children and mothers stolen from their families are being kept.”