It was like a wall, an invisible force or fence line he couldn’t see that blocked the flow of the smoke. How were they going to get across?
Armana stopped. He jerked forward, catching himself with his fingers twisted in her hide. Agony wicked up his leg and his calf cramped.
He sucked in a breath and wheezed it out. A coughing fit followed.
Armana remained still. Gray hacked and sputtered. If he didn’t get out of this smoke soon, he’d be worthless as more dirty air filled his lungs.
Finally, he dragged in a half-clean breath and opened his eyes. A large man stood in front of him, a black rag tied across his face.
Gray was tempted to move in front of Armana, but his awkward protective instinct would only end up with him wobbling and her having to catch him anyway.
“Gray Stockwell?” the man asked in a deep, calm voice. Gray wanted to squirm under his piercing hazel stare. If the guy said he had X-ray vision, Gray wouldn’t be surprised.
Gray nodded. He was used to being on the tall side for a man, but this stranger dressed in black from head to toe topped him by a few inches, and his shoulder width made Gray look scrawny in comparison.
“I’m Commander Fitzsimmons,” the man said only loud enough for Gray to hear over the noise of the fire. “Can you follow me or do you need to be carried?”
The boss of the Guardians. The man in charge of Jace. Jace, who was like his mother and could turn into a wolf? Gray mentally shook his head. He wouldn’t have time to think about all of this later if he didn’t get moving.
“As long as Armana can tolerate me using her as a crutch, I can walk,” Gray croaked. He needed water.
Armana sneezed, followed by three more like she was trying to clear out her nostrils.
Commander Fitzsimmons’s gaze flicked over them and he turned.
The closer they got to the invisible force field, the better Gray could see the other side. Where Gray was blanketed by a gritty fog, crystal clear air was only yards away.
The commander strode to the border where the land flattened and the cluster of trees thinned out. Gray didn’t have to waste as much energy struggling over the ground, but it was difficult to keep up with the commander.
The man walked right through the wall. Gray stalled, but Armana turned her head and touched her nose to his knee. She knew better than to nudge his injured leg. This whole shifter business was easier to tolerate when she was saving his ass. It’d be easier to look at Jace with more than distrust—easier not to question the new reality he found himself in.
They crossed through. A brief tingling over his skin and a lungful of fresh air were the only signs that they’d made it to the other side.
Armana lifted her head. She was sucking in clean breaths. Her throat had to burn like his, but the tightness was easing to the point where he didn’t feel like he was going to cough up a black lung.
Commander Fitzsimmons stopped. He must’ve sensed that they needed a minute to clear their heads and gather themselves. Gray assumed they were now in a safe zone, but he didn’t really know. He didn’t know what he knew at this point.
“West Creek’s rural fire department is on the blaze,” Commander Fitzsimmons said. How did he know? “It’s eaten several hundred acres.” Displeasure rippled through his features. “We’re going to have to drop the wards to keep them from discovering our security.”
Gray brushed the back of his forearm across his face. Dirt and dust dug into his skin. His jeans were grungy from sweat and the slide down the ridge. His shirt had small holes punched into it from rocks and roots. But he’d made it this far with only a sprained ankle and his meds.
So far so good.
The commander lifted his chin to Gray but spoke to Armana. “He’s going too slow. We need to clear out before the fire department comes tromping through here.”
Armana flowed into a woman. And that’s what it was. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment she went from canine to human. It didn’t look painful. She made it a serene motion that took nothing more than a simple thought.
And now she was naked. He averted his gaze. Her people might not be modest, but talking to a beautiful woman with lush bare breasts and hips that invited the eye made him modest as hell.
“You take his injured side,” she said to the other man.
Gray was helpless as the commander planted himself next to him and grabbed his pill bottles before throwing one of Gray’s arms over his shoulder. Gray’s fluster was pushed aside by a nude Armana curving herself into his other side.
His mind wanted to analyze the feel of her heat pressed into him and all the fantasies it prompted. He clamped his teeth down and stared straight ahead.
“Ready” was all he said. Time to get this over with.
They mostly carried him the rest of the way. He mimed the walking motion, but the commander was taller and used it to his advantage to lift Gray until he was at the mercy of the Guardian. Armana managed to keep his injured foot from hitting the ground.
The trees grew taller, wider, with expansive canopies that sheltered the ground. Interspersed in the landscape were tidy cabins. Some had wraparound porches. A couple had nice flower beds and even stretches of gardens. Were one of these Cassie’s?
Was he going to finally see where she lived, where she’d made her home and wouldn’t let him in? It only took a kidnapping attempt to get him here.
He stomped the derision down. It wasn’t a healthy emotion. Dr. Sodhi would tell him that he couldn’t dwell on what he couldn’t control.
Didn’t mean that he didn’t feel like a beggar when it came to Cassie’s life. Armana could do something as simple as stopping by. Had Commander Fitzsimmons been over for supper? Had drinks?
That line of thinking would do no good. Pain must be making him cranky. Cassie was the light of his life. She could do no wrong. He was the father, and he always assumed responsibility.
Gray focused on the massive log structure they were heading toward. Its peaked and arched windows blended into their surroundings by reflecting the trees and sky back on themselves. The timber used to build the lodge was natural camouflage.
The area was quiet, but he felt stares boring into him. Real or not?
“Dad!”
The others didn’t stop for Cassie, but he craned his neck around. Cassie sprinted for them in a pair of jean cutoffs and a plain pink tee, her short hair bouncing with each step. It was hard to look at her as an adult and not see a ten-year-old girl baiting a fishhook.
She caught up with them and fell in step. Always his calm and collected child, she didn’t pepper them with questions, nor did she ask how he was doing. Physically she could see he was okay, and they both knew that his appearance didn’t indicate his mental status.
They were at the rear of the lodge. The front must be really impressive, but he wasn’t here for a tour. Another wisp of resentment curled through him. He hadn’t been invited here to see the place.
Cassie rushed ahead to open the door. Inside was a dim foyer that split off in different directions. The polished wood interior was just as appealing as the outside but with no adornments, no decorations, nothing that indicated what kind of people lived here. Even his psych ward had had more decorations.
They reached a room that looked a lot like a hospital suite. Two cots covered in white sheets were situated in the middle and cabinets lined the walls. The antiseptic smell shuttled him back to his time in the behavioral health ward of Freemont’s hospital.
He didn’t need assistance to sit on a cot, but he forced himself to appreciate the help.
“I left Jace a message an hour ago,” said Cassie to Commander Fitzsimmons. “Have you heard from him yet?”
The commander shook his head. “He’s with one of the twins. I tried Malcolm, but he didn’t answer either.”
Cassie’s features pinched and she feathered a strand of hair behind her ear. Gray hated seeing his daughter distressed.
Another man came in. If Gray were to gue
ss, he’d say they were about the same age. But then Armana claimed to be much older than she looked.
Commander Fitzsimmons didn’t waste time. “It’s his left ankle. Give him a quick once-over and make sure we didn’t miss another injury.” He turned a serious look on Cassie. The guy had bad news and he wasn’t going to say anything in front of a crowd. “We’ll need to talk once we get this sorted out.”
Color drained from Cassie’s face. Gray’s protective nature reared. He planted his hands on the edge of the cot, not sure what he would do, if he could do anything.
The movement didn’t escape Cassie’s notice, or any of the others. Tension flowed thick through the room.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Cassie asked.
Gray shook his head and glanced from her to the commander. “Are you in trouble?”
“We’re trying to determine what kind of trouble, but not the kind you’re thinking. The safest place for me is here. These shifters are my friends…and family.” Her gaze dropped, like she thought that would hurt his feelings.
Except for the trouble his mental illness had caused, he prided himself on being a good father in many ways. Cassie had found a place here, these people protected her, and that was what he wanted for her. It was his own selfish nature that wanted to make sure he was a part of her life also.
Dr. Sodhi said it wasn’t selfish, but all the therapy in the world couldn’t stop Gray from not wanting to cause more problems in Cassie’s life.
And that’s what prompted him to ignore her reaction to the commander’s foreboding words. “Aside from a few scratches, it’s just the sprained ankle. Pretty minor considering everything we’ve been through.”
He met Armana’s gaze. They’d had a harrowing flight through the woods. Now what? He didn’t want to see her leave, but he wanted fiercely for her to get dressed. He wanted just as fiercely to hold the marvel that was her body.
She lifted a shoulder defined with gentle swells of muscle. “I’ve been through worse.”
It wasn’t said in a way to belittle the events of the day, or to address all the ways in which she claimed they were different. She just stated it as a fact.
Actually, until the fire, he’d been through worse, too.
“This is Doc,” Commander Fitzsimmons said. “He’ll patch you up, and Cassie and my mate will get you situated.” He tipped his head and left the room. Authority oozed from the man’s voice in the way he carried himself. No wonder he was in charge.
Doc opened a few drawers and Cassie planted herself in a chair by the wall.
Armana glanced around as if looking for an excuse to stay. Or was it only his imagination? “Well, I shall return to my room and get cleaned up.”
“I can’t thank you enough for your help, Armana,” Cassie said.
“It was nice to be useful again.” Her gaze flitted away and her blue eyes darkened. “Please let me know as soon as you hear from Jace.” She left and Gray glued his gaze to the far wall to keep from staring at her backside.
Doc crossed over to him, his arms loaded with gauze, tape, and a damp rag. No one said anything as Doc dressed his wound. Then he rattled off a few after-care directions.
“Alex will be here shortly. She’ll get you situated in one of the guest rooms. I recommend you don’t go anywhere.”
When Doc left, Gray slid his gaze to his daughter. She was staring pensively at the door.
Something beyond his attack and injury was bothering her. “Are you going to share what’s worrying you?”
Chapter Five
Guilt simmered in Cassie’s gaze. “Armana told you what she is—what the rest are?”
“I saw for myself.” But he still didn’t know what to believe.
“You can understand why they’d have to be so secretive. When I mated Jace, I knew what I was getting into and that someday I would have to deal with what to tell you.”
Yes, his disease.
She chewed on her lip while her hands gripped her knees, her knuckles almost white. He’d never seen this level of anxiety in her. This time, it wasn’t about his schizophrenia.
“What would you have to tell me?” Or not tell me?
“They are very strict about who knows about them, and since I won’t die until Jace does, that leaves the potential for me to live for years beyond a normal human life span. I’ll look like this most of that time.”
Armana had made similar claims. His daughter might outlive him. But that was the way it was supposed to be.
“They have ways to combat humans knowing about them.” Cassie’s gaze was direct. He couldn’t help the pride that swelled. She never shied away from a difficult conversation.
“What ways? Is not knowing what I’d be able to believe not enough?”
“They can tamper with memories. And I’m worried that if they do that with you, it’ll have more serious repercussions than it would with someone who doesn’t suffer from mental illness.”
Oh. They could wipe his mind? Why did that seem outside the realm of possibility when he’d just seen Armana turn into a wolf?
But his mind wasn’t normal. He sighed and scrubbed his face. The evening had worn on and although the sun stayed out past ten p.m. in the summer, it was now dark and he was tired.
“Let’s not worry about that now then.” Her life was startlingly full of secrecy. It was too much to think about right now.
A tall woman breezed into the room. She had vivid green eyes and a faux hawk of glossy black hair, and she carried as much authority as Commander Fitzsimmons.
She must be that man’s wife—mate, or whatever they called it.
“’Sup, chickadees. I need to get you bedded down for the night.” Alex’s voice was as full-bodied as the rest of her, and even though Gray knew nothing about her, he preferred her over the commander, if only because Cassie’s tension abated.
“Can he just stay with me? I’d feel better, since Jace isn’t home yet.”
Warmth infused Gray. You want to be with Cassie for the same reason. He needed to know she was safe, and he didn’t want her home alone and scared. That wasn’t usually like her, but this was an extenuating circumstance.
Alex shrugged and she looked off in the distance, her eyes going momentarily blank. “Yeah, he said it was okay. Just don’t go walking around nekkid, because the cameras will be aimed at your cabin. I know how chaste you humans get.”
Gray eased himself off the cot and gingerly placed his weight on his foot. His muscles had stiffened in the short time he’d been sitting. That was one of the most bothersome signs of aging. Losing his agility motivated him to take better care of himself.
“Do we have any crutches around?” Cassie asked.
Alex went to a tall cupboard and withdrew a pair. She adjusted the length and handed them over. “Doc is nothing if not prepared. We use them sometimes if we have a wicked owie that takes more time to heal.”
He used the crutches to hobble behind Cassie and Alex as they headed back out the door they had come in. Humid night air enveloped him and reminded him that he had dried sweat and caked dirt all over him and his clothing was in tatters.
The path to Cassie’s cabin was fairly worn and caused little trouble with the crutches.
Cassie and Alex murmured to each other, and he couldn’t make out what they were saying over his labored breathing. Was Alex reassuring her or warning her about how they were going to “deal” with him?
They reached the base of the steps going up to the porch. Alex touched a hand to Cassie’s shoulder before she wandered off. As she walked past him, she said, “Get some rest. It always gets crazier before it gets calmer.”
He hopped up the stairs. Cassie placed herself behind him like she was going to catch him if he fell. What an ominous warning Alex had left him with. But there was a note of support in her voice, and the more people to look after Cassie if he was gone, the better.
Cassie showed him around the little two-bedroom cabin. Her home wasn’t adorned much more t
han the lodge with its nature-scape wall hangings and neutral-toned furniture. The two bedrooms each had a bed and a couple of small dressers. Her and Jace’s room had a quilt and another wildlife painting. She was never one to dwell on appearances. He thought back to his own home. Like father, like daughter.
The loss of his wife caught him off guard at unexpected times, like this one, and it was as if he resumed mourning where he’d left off the last time her absence was hurtfully obvious. Lillian would’ve dragged Cassie out shopping, laughing and chatting over what pictures would look best. They would’ve hit up flea markets and thrift stores. Lillian had always been good at pulling Cassie out of her own head.
“So, that’s all there is here,” Cassie said when they finished in the living room. “You go shower. The bed is already made, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
He rolled his eyes. The corner of his mouth hitched up. “I’ll go shower. You get us something to drink because I know you’re not going to get any sleep tonight. I’ll stay up with you.”
Her eyes misted over and she nodded. “Thanks, Dad.”
His little girl needed him, and dammit, he was gonna be there for her.
***
Armana paced wall to wall in her tiny room. She’d cleaned up before going to bed, but sleep had been elusive. Cassie was safe, Gray was safe, but no one had heard from Jace or Malcolm yet.
She dug deep into her well of restraint to keep herself from leaving Jace a message every five minutes and texting him every other minute to ask if he was okay.
It was early in the morning. Would Cassie and Gray be awake yet? Armana couldn’t stand herself anymore. She was going to crawl out of her skin. Running her wolf would be a good solution, but she wanted to talk to Cassie and Gray as soon as they were awake. They were both too human for her to walk in naked to chat after a shift.
Though small talk was the last thing she wanted to do. She wanted to interrogate, dismantle rooms, hell, dismantle people to find answers about her son.
He was good at his job, she had to have faith in that. The answer might be as simple as him being in a place with poor cell reception. Which was almost every village that shifters lived in.
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