Secrets in the Fade (Secrets of the Sequoia Book 2)

by Deidre Huesmann

  The dark thought had almost escaped into his periphery when a glimpse of white grabbed his attention.

  Probably just a daisy, he told himself. Still he wandered over to inspect. Crouched toward the ground, his weight on his haunches, Holden prodded at the tiny bud of white. Except it wasn’t a bud. A jolt ran up his arms, and he touched it again. It was solid, with a smoothness that came close to a pebble’s.

  He picked up the object with his thumb and forefingers, bringing it close to inspect. It wasn’t necessary. Many times before he had seen wolf teeth, and this one was no different. The only unusual thing about it was how peculiarly small it was. If he were to pinch it hard enough, the tooth would spit forth between his fingers and take brief flight.

  Rather than call out to Rachael, he pocketed the tooth. Something about it was disquieting, and he didn’t want to concern her until he was certain what he had meant anything.

  Just as he rose and turned to find her, Rachael’s voice rose. “Holden!”

  The way her voice squeaked on the last syllable struck a nervous chord within him. Holden rushed over, noticing the tiny object in her hand.

  “Is this hers?” she asked in a faint tremor.

  There was no need to specify who she was referring to. Holden shook his head emphatically.

  “Are you sure?” she pressed.

  “Positive,” he stated. Doubt shadowed her already bleak grey eyes, so he covered her outstretched palm. “Ray, I was trained to notice every detail, and that’s not easy as a lycan. But I remember things. My brain’s like a camera now. Yesterday you were wearing a purple shirt, and that necklace I gave you was under the collar like it is now. On your birthday you had blue and white plaid socks. Your dad left his dish dirtier than yours when you had dinner that night—you’ve always rinsed your plate really well.”

  Perhaps it was his amateurish Sherlock speech, but her tentative smile was welcoming nonetheless. Then it vanished. “Could there be someone else dead out here?”

  Holden chewed the inside of his cheek. He removed his hand to look at what she held again—a tiny human tooth. A baby tooth. Whoever it had belonged to had also been young, just like all the missing and deceased children.

  “Maybe,” he said quietly.

  “Can’t you smell anything?”

  How he hated to see her so desperate. Holden rubbed his face with both hands, attempting to clear his thoughts. He believed he knew where this conversation was heading. Regret Avenue was not a road he wanted to journey today.

  “No,” he said. “Maybe if it was an old body, I could. But I was all over here yesterday, and I didn’t smell anything. And I don’t now. Maybe if it’s really new, but...”

  She reacted with disturbing calm. Rachael turned the tooth over in her fingers gingerly. After a few moments her mouth hardened, and she enclosed her evidence in her palm.

  “We have to show Aaron.”

  Unspoken was her decision to check in on her brother. Holden battled with the idea. If he went back there now, nothing would stop Aaron from spilling his guts to the floor. For good, this time.

  Nothing but Rachael. She’s his ray of sunshine, a voice within him said snidely.

  His scars exploded with fiery pain. If he was wrong, Aaron would murder him as promised. But he also knew that voice a valid point.

  Oh, what the hell. What was life without risks?

  With a wry smile, Holden nodded.

  Chapter Eleven

  Aaron was an utter failure as an alpha.

  This was no epiphany. He had lived with a pack previously, under the so-called rule of an amiable alpha named Sanjana. If ever there had been a mother figure in his life, Sanjana had encompassed all the positive qualities. Though he had trouble recalling the precise shade of her brown eyes, Aaron easily remembered her sweet demeanor. She had treated all pups as her blood children. Not a single one lacked her doting care.

  He even remembered when his first “birthday” after becoming a lycan had come and gone with nary a merry wish. Sanjana had come to him deep within the pack’s hollowed cave. Many of the lycans chose to sleep together. Some even sprawled over each other. Personal space meant nothing to most of them.

  That day it had meant everything to Aaron. He had deliberately chosen a spot that was as isolated as one could be in a den of a dozen wolves. Sanjana had sauntered over, her footfalls as gentle as her demeanor. She had pressed her soot-black muzzle against his jaw and uttered soft whimpers of empathy. Even in near perfect darkness, the gold flecks of her eyes had kindled a warm empathy that had, at the time, struck him with such deep admiration.

  Rapidly, she had taught him that birthdays were both special to humans and something to leave behind as a lycan. The years only mattered for vanity. Who wanted to be known as over one hundred, anyhow? All that concerned her was survival and mothering her beloved pack.

  Unfortunately, her kindness had been her downfall. Prior to Aaron’s 70th birthday (he simply couldn’t shake that human vanity) one of the more unruly pups had challenged Sanjana’s status. In her advancing age, she had been no match—and the pup had shown no mercy.

  Their new alpha had won respect at first, but none seemed able to forget their kind alpha mother. Compared to her maternal affection, a life of reckless hunting and in-fighting quickly lost its sinful appeal. In the end, the new leader’s death had been just as brutal, and the pack had disbanded as all trust amongst their kin had dwindled to barely a puff of smoke.

  Twenty years passed before Aaron had brought himself to burn his blood-stained clothes from that night. Murdering a cruel alpha was neither boastful nor worthy of penance.

  Sanjana, he knew, would never have exiled Holden. With her the violent bursts of temper would never have happened. Long before they manifested she would have soothed him with gentle cuddles in their wolf forms; hugged him with the familiarity of a childhood quilt. Never would she have disallowed him to seek her out for comfort at a young age, as Aaron had. To Sanjana, the pack was her family, and all the pups her children. Her children were never spurned from affection.

  But this is why me and mine are alive, thought Aaron darkly. He commanded discipline and doled out affection in private, the precise opposite method of Sanjana. And thus far, he had lived twice as long. His pack was smaller, true, but for the most part it had been solid.

  Had been. Those qualifying words brought a self-mocking smile to his mouth. He’d had a solid, almost close-knit pack for nearly a century. Nathan had never let him down since the day Aaron found him in the covered wagon. Roxi, regrettable as her more recent death was, had faithfully stuck with for quite some time. And Holden—

  Aaron withdrew from his dark reverie. No. He could not allow the memory of a traitor to plague him any more than he could bring Sanjana or any other lycan in history back from the dead. It didn’t matter what his first alpha would have done differently. Holden had lashed out with no intent to cease. To an alpha, that was a challenge. Normally it wasn’t worthy of banishment, but Holden’s case was different.

  So he told himself.

  He stood, allowing the shadows of the house to swallow him. The last scalding ray of sunlight had faded nearly an hour ago. Truly, he appreciated the early nights autumn beckoned.

  Slinking soundlessly up the stairs, he first noted that all the bedroom lights were out. As any wise father knew, this meant next to nothing.

  Normally he would have checked on Jackson first, but instinct pulled him to the only door on his right. Aaron was pleased to find the hinges made no sound at all. Jackson had done well choosing this particular home. Inside the moonlight danced between cracks in the denim-blue curtains, kissing the strands of a silvery head of hair. The haphazard tangle of limbs and sheets stirred upon the twin bed.

  “I can’t sleep,” mumbled Nathan.

  Aaron eased himself on the edge of the mattress. “Sleep begins with closing your eyes.”

  His brother lowered the sheets, shooting him am impetuous pout. “Are you gonn
a kill Jackson like you did to Roxi?”

  “Like I did Roxi,” intoned Aaron. He choice to ignore the boy’s poor pronunciation otherwise. He held his brother’s gaze, marveling how eyes as dark as his could somehow gleam with a peculiar innocence and light that Aaron had lost so long ago. “You know I may have to.”

  Nathan shrank against his pillow. Knotting the sheets in his smaller hands, he uttered, “If you gotta keep killin’ our pack, maybe we should stop infecting humans. We can run and it’ll be just who we got now.”

  Pity threatened to split Aaron’s calm adult façade. He reached over and smoothed hair back from Nathan’s forehead. Gently, his palm came to rest against the boy’s crown.

  “If we never turned another, we truly would be alone,” he explained in low tones. His brother’s hair was softer than a cat’s and far more soothing to pet. “You are my only blood left, Nathan. We are the last of our line, and I must do all I can to preserve that.” He sighed. “Still, we cannot go this alone. As a pack, we are stronger. When the day comes that I inevitably pass on, I prefer to die knowing you and the pack I leave to you will continue on for years.”

  As he spoke, his brother’s face went from wrinkled and sullen to solemn and smooth. Nathan kicked his legs, adjusting the sheets around him more comfortably. “Okay,” he said.

  With a wry smile, Aaron stood again. Sometimes it was nice to know Nathan trusted him so. It made him feel all his hard work and silent tears had paid off. “Just do not think I intend to die anytime soon.”

  “I know,” said Nathan matter-of-factly. “It’d be better if we got a girl lycan and you made babies with her.”

  This gave Aaron pause before he reached the threshold. He turned to observe the boy, but found no fault in his guileless expression. “For now, let us focus on doing our best to keep Jackson with us,” he said blandly.

  He closed the door with a soft click of finality. Shaking his head, he had to wonder at the wild ideas Nathan came up with. Every lycan understood that alphas did not mate—not anymore. Kept amongst the betas of the pack was one matter, but lycans were part human. This higher reasoning meant they were just as susceptible to jealousy, possessiveness, and affairs.

  The alpha’s duty was to settle such matters, not to risk becoming part of them. It was a large reason why Roxi’s lies to Nathan that they would marry and start their own pack were exponentially foolish for his brother to believe. Should an alpha choose to pass on his superior genes, he had to concede his position. Yet conceding meant he was neither strong nor smart enough to lead. Often, such motions would earn that barely non-alpha death or banishment.

  He tried to shrug off the fleeting fantasies Nathan’s imagination had brought on. Jackson’s room still boasted no light. Aaron opened the door silently.

  Inside the young man wasn’t even pretending to sleep. His massive frame hovered by the bare window, his profile lit by street lights. Anxiety ruled his brow, and fear tensed his shoulders.

  Before Aaron could speak, Jackson whispered, “They’re here.” He didn’t look at his leader, but the plea was naked in his tone. “I don’t like him, either. But RayRay does. Don’t kill him.”

  Wordlessly, Aaron left to welcome the enemy.

  The baby tooth in Rachael’s pocket burned with the flame only evidence could. She wriggled impatiently in the car, fiddling with her seatbelt often enough that even Holden grew irritated.

  “Stop,” he snapped. “You’re buckled in.”

  “Sorry,” she said. She rubbed the tiny bump in her jeans. “But this changes everything. Even Aaron can’t say this is nothing.”

  Holden’s silence spoke of his disagreement. But he wisely kept his mouth shut.

  Night had fallen far faster than Rachael liked. Despite her find, she had refused to leave without combing the woods. The tooth was a fantastic start, but anything else could have helped. Though they found nothing more, confidence filled her heart to bursting. With this, her brother would be saved.

  Rachael started when Holden came to a sudden halt at the end of the new Moreno driveway. Even if they had to make a run for it, getting to the car would be a million times easier if they pulled up closer. When she told him so, Holden shook his head.

  “I don’t think I should go with you.” His voice held a disturbing muteness. The flecks of his eyes faded to dull brass as he stared out the front of the vehicle.

  Dismay sank her heart. Still, Rachael reached over the console and took his clammy hand. “It’s not that I can’t do this alone, but he listens to you better.”

  Dully, he said, “Not anymore.”

  What does that even mean? Before she could ask, Holden roughly disengaged his hand and unbuckled his seatbelt. He was out the car and walking at a brisk pace before Rachael could open her door.

  By the time they reached the porch, Aaron was waiting for them. The house remained unlit behind him. The streetlights from the road flickered, casting a sinister waltz of shadows into the threshold. The alpha’s eyes were riveted to Holden’s every move, his gaze frigid and hard as an arctic midnight.

  Rachael felt the tension between the two as she never had before. The air on the porch throbbed like a deep-tissue contusion, so loud and angry that she felt her blood heat in response. She shoved herself in front of her friend—(Boyfriend? that inappropriate part of her whispered)—and planted her feet. Try as she might to meet Aaron’s stare, he continued to lash Holden with his eyes.

  Firmly, she said, “Whatever you guys did can wait. I need to talk to you.”

  Aaron didn’t even blink. He faced Holden yet addressed her. “There is nothing to speak of at this time, Miss Rachael. Your brother remains safe. Go home. I am certain your father will begin to worry soon.”

  “No. I’m not leaving.”

  “I am not asking.” That he clearly directed to his charge, the final syllable almost a snarl.

  Rachael’s ears flushed with fury. “If you think I’m letting Jackie go like—like some drummer that can’t keep a tune, you’re stupid.”

  Subtly, Aaron’s mouth twitched at her clumsy band metaphor. Vera was so much better at those, she realized. The blood spread from her ears to her face. She fought it back as his eyes drifted toward her.

  “It is late,” he said with a sharp edge. “You are keeping my pack from sleep. Whatever you have to say shall be taken with utmost consideration tomorrow.”

  Behind her, Holden muttered in her ear, “I’ll wait in the car.”

  “No,” snapped Aaron. His fury nearly flayed Rachael’s skin. “If you go, you leave us forever. Consider yourself fortunate that Jackson wanted your life spared. I will not be so lenient twice.”

  Rachael stepped away from the men, throwing her hands up. The world was spinning into a topsy-turvy joyride of insanity—and that was saying something, considering she had only two years ago discovered lycans existed.

  “Okay,” she said loudly. “What on earth is going on, here? What am I missing?”

  A strange spirit overtook Aaron. His tension dissipated, his body going from blocky edges to silky laconic. Folding his arms over his bare chest, he directed a cold smile to his charge.

  The blood drained from Holden’s face.

  “You did not tell her,” murmured Aaron. That creepy smile widened.

  “Shut up,” growled Holden.

  “I believe you ought to.”

  “Shut. Up.”

  “A healthy relationship cannot build its foundation upon lies.”

  Holden turned to her, his gaze pleading. “Ray, I haven’t lied to you since you found out about us.”

  “Unless you place any weight upon lies via omission,” Aaron sneered.

  Rachael ignored him, choosing to face her friend squarely. She knew of his lies before. She also knew that some bizarre face-off between the men had started yet again. This was costing her dearly.

  Offering her hand to Holden, she said softly, “You know I care about you. Just tell me so we can get this over with.” She frow
ned at Aaron, trying to suppress the shivers his strange smirk induced. “I need to talk about Jackie. Let’s just play his stupid game, or he won’t let me.”

  The colors in Holden’s eyes clashed as he wrestled with naked uncertainty. At last, he accepted her hand. For a few moments all was quiet but for the rustling of animals and wind of the nearby forest.

  After a deep inhale, Holden’s words exploded out in a whisper. “After you left last night, I hit him.” He scowled at Aaron to indicate who he meant. Rachael nodded. “We got in a... a sort of fight. So he exiled me from the pack.”

  In keeping with his eerie smugness, Aaron said, “You were exiled because I have reached my limit for your spoiled act.”

  The conflict of their reveal doused Rachael’s heart in icy water. She struggled to keep her breathing controlled, silently begging her mother for strength. This changed everything. They all knew so. Why did they keep shifting the rules on her?

  Mercifully, the spirit of her mother must have touched her, because Rachael managed to quell her urge to cry.

  Holden went on doggedly as though his alpha hadn’t spoken. “It’s hell living under him, Ray. You don’t even know how much watches us—or you, even. It’s scary and creepy. He’s worse than your dad ever was. He demands respect and total obedience. I’ve had to do a lot of awful things because he required it.” His grip on her fingers grew painful. “But this is still the only family I’ve had for decades. I don’t—I didn’t mean to...” He trailed off uncertainly.

  Rachael tried to give him a reassuring smile, but her muscles felt weak. Obviously, she wished he had told her sooner—or not attacked Aaron at all. More than once she had grown angry enough to understand Holden’s penchant for violence against his alpha, yet this incident had ravaged her ties to Jackson.

  Still, she murmured, “Thanks.”

  Holden shot a final scowl at his former alpha before he released her hand and stomped off the front porch. His beater car groaned to life and idled as Rachael watched, biting her lip. But he didn’t leave. There was no way he would leave her alone.