Ana gave a slight nod and watched him walk down the hallway. When they were alone, she didn’t seem to know what to do. Her gaze fell on him and then down the hallway toward her room. Chance was angry and annoyed. He didn’t know how to switch it off. At this rate she’d want to back out of the wedding in no time. If he could just be himself, be the guy she fell in love with. Only problem was, he didn’t know if he knew how to anymore.
“Want to come with me to the meditation room? It might be good for you…” Ana swept her hair off her shoulder and looked away.
“I don’t want to be here with everyone, it makes me…” He couldn’t find the words to continue and ended with, “I need to be alone so I don’t hurt your feelings any more than I have.”
Without waiting for a response, he turned outside again. He pulled the door shut behind him and felt the wintry air bite at his cheeks and ears. This time he shifted into a bird and flew to a distant tree. The house was within sight of his perch, but he wasn’t close enough to bother anyone.
He sat there long enough with the wind rustling his chest feathers to see Lifen exit the home with everyone following behind. Jordan pulled an SUV out of the garage and onto the driveway. Lifen climbed into the driver’s seat after waving goodbye and drove away.
Jordan stood on the icy driveway, staring at the ghost of her taillights, until Batukhan clapped him on the shoulder and guided him back to the house. Chance watched Ana scan the horizon before following Derek inside.
Mac remained on the driveway, however, his nose lifted in the air. He stared in Chance’s direction and in a flash, his clothes crumpled onto the ground. A small silhouette took to the skies and flew directly toward Chance’s hiding place. He fidgeted in place, watching the bird get closer.
Relief set in when the creature landed on the ground below him. The crow peered up into the boughs, its beady black eyes reflecting the white snow around it. Its onyx feathers brushed against the ground, sending a spray of glittering ice into the air. Chance held still as if there were hope of not being found. He thought Mac had given up after a minute because everything grew quiet, but when he looked down again, a tall, dark haired man was staring up at him.
“Hey, Chance. I know you’re up there. You don’t have to answer, but I do want you to listen. Batukhan asked me to come here to help you. He told me about the events from the other night following my unscheduled nap. The details make everything more curious to me. I’m not so sure it was only the shifter sickness you were suffering from. I have to say, I don’t hold you responsible for bludgeoning me and if you’d allow me, I’d like to help you through your recovery. We can work in private—we don’t have to let anyone else know what you’re going through if you want.” Mac rested his hand against the trunk of the tree and stared at the lake in the basin below. His voice softened. “I’ve met Ana. She must be powerful if she was able to cure your sickness. It’d be a shame not to fight as hard as you can for your life together. Finding a mate who can understand you as well as she does is a gift. I’d remind you not to turn your back on her.”
Mac didn’t wait for Chance to respond, but took to the skies once again as a crow and flew back to Lifen’s house. His distant human shape walked along the zigzag walkway and disappeared through the front door.
Chance wasn’t quite prepared to return. He needed time to digest what Mac had said. Mac’s forgiveness meant a lot to him, but what Chance fixated on was the suggestion that he’d been affected by more than the shifter sickness.
Chance remained on his solitary branch and watched the sun arc through the sky. Other birds flew through the air and a small hare hopped down the slope below him. The quietude and peacefulness helped soothe his anxiety.
Movement drew his attention. A line of people walked from Lifen’s house, across the driveway and to the large outbuilding that housed the animals. Batukhan lead them in and Jordan, Derek and Ana followed behind. Ana trailed slowly, turning her head in every direction before being called inside.
There was one missing from the group. Mac had not accompanied them, which meant he was waiting for Chance inside. Without anyone else to overhear or judge, Chance was ready to take this important first step. He opened his wings and dropped forward off the branch. Air currents collected under his feathers, carrying him upward. Although flying wasn’t his favorite thing and he still felt awkward doing it, he could appreciate the freedom it offered. It only took him a minute to return to his freezing pile of clothes on the front porch. He put them on and slipped in through the front door.
He waited for his eyes to adjust to the lower light. When he could see more than bright shapes, he spotted a man sitting with his back to him in the living room. Long black hair covered his shoulders. Chance walked over and joined him on the floor. He sat cross-legged and stared out the expansive windows instead of looking at Mac.
“Couldn’t stay away, I see. I promise to help you, but when it comes to my secret recipe of Three Sister’s Soup, I will take that to my grave. The story behind it, however, you will have to sit through if you’re ever honored with the occasion.”
He felt Mac’s soft brown eyes on him while he spoke. There was something disarming about him. Maybe it was his sense of humor or lighthearted attitude, but Chance had a hard time remaining serious.
“So, where do we start?” Chance muttered.
“With a good chicken stock, but you’re not getting anything else out of me. But, if you are finally ready to start recovering from the scars of your affliction then we can begin right now.” Mac placed a box of matches in Chance’s hand and pointed to a thick candle that sat in the middle of the coffee table in front of them. He asked, “Will you light the candle?”
Chance pulled a wooden matchstick out, lit it and touched it to the wick of the white candle.
“Are we going to start chanting now?” Chance asked and blew out the match.
Mac smiled and said, “Not unless you want to. Whatever you think will make you feel better. Right now, it appears being cranky is what you’re going with. But I’m not sure it’s really making you feel better. Want to go with your method, or should we try something else?”
Chance sighed and pressed his fingers against the ridge of his nose. He needed to control his attitude. The moment he woke up that morning, he’d gotten off on the wrong foot. He wasn’t sure if Mac would be able to help him become the man he once was, but he wanted to try. Staying angry wasn’t an option.
“Sorry.”
Mac smiled. “Great start. I don’t assume you remember everything since you got the sickness. You likely have periods of time that are black, a common issue when another’s energy merges with your own.”
“I thought you said there could’ve been more to everything than just the shifter sickness. What did you mean?”
“We’ll come to that. But first, do you recall visiting me a couple days ago?”
Chance thought back to when Batukhan had led him through the Canadian wilderness until they’d caught Mac’s scent. He’d appeared as a Sasquatch and led them to his outdoor camp. Chance knew he’d hit him on the head with a thick branch and knocked him out, something that Mac had apparently forgiven him for.
Chance nodded. “I remember meeting you and . . . hurting you.”
“Do you remember what I had you do before a voice in your head thought it was a good idea to bludgeon your host? Do you remember sitting at the fire?”
Disjointed memories filtered through his thoughts. His throat burned and he recalled being offered a cool, translucent drink while he warmed himself at the fire. Batukhan had sat beside him, watchful and silent as Mac spoke to him. Chance ventured a glance at Mac now, and was reminded of him lying unconscious in the snow. He slid his lids shut. It was too uncomfortable thinking about his cruelty. Why was Mac making him remember?
“Chance?”
“Did you get me drunk?” He mumbled.
Mac raised his eyebrow and turned. “I gave you a fermented drink that helped me guide
you to release the voices in your head. Do you remember?”
Chance had no interest in thinking about any of it. His life had been hijacked for a month and he’d done too many things he was ashamed of. He remained silent and stared out the window. Mac’s eyes were on him; he could feel them trace over his face and bore into him.
“My mother is the one who gave me my powers. She was a healer. We were very close and I cherished her like no other. As powerful as my mother was, her abilities couldn’t keep her from dying in an ambush. For a long time I was angry that I hadn’t been there to save her. Anger is a poison that can affect more than the one who holds it. Choosing to let it go is one of the hardest things you can do, but it will set you free.”
Chance jumped up, his muscles tight. He pointed his finger in Mac’s face and snarled. “I’m not the angry one! It was that psycho who pushed me to do everything I did! It was him, not me, who wanted to hurt everyone I met! It was that damned voice!”
Blood rushed to his head and pounded behind his temples. Mac stared at him, ignoring Chance’s finger that was inches from his nose. Chance dropped his hand, but felt like punching something hard. He thought about going back outside and finding a solid tree trunk to pummel. As he considered what would be most pleasing to do, he stopped to glare at Mac, who was still peering at him. “What?!”
“I think you have a lot of anger to let go of, but I don’t want to tempt you to let it go at me, because then you’ll feel even worse. First you need to recognize where your anger is coming from and then, I dare you to let it go. It is the only way forward to a life of happiness.”
Mac sat before him, smiling. How could anyone possibly be that pleasant? The man must have smoked one too many peace pipes. And what did he mean he had a lot of anger to let go of? The guy was off his rocker.
“What are you mad about?” Mac prompted.
“You want to know what I’m mad about?” Chance grabbed his temples and roared. “I’m mad at you for wanting me to remember all the things I did that I’m not proud of! I’m mad I was made to do these things to begin with. I’m mad I couldn’t stop myself . . . and I’m afraid that if Ana finds out about it all she won’t love me anymore!!”
His cheek quivered, delivering a shock of pain to his heart. He couldn’t bear looking at Mac after his heavy confession. It actually surprised him. Hearing himself say the words made it real. He’d been trying to hide from his memories and feelings. It was all too much for him to process alone and up to this point he hadn’t spoken to anyone about it, not even Ana. Especially not Ana.
“The truth will set you free.”
Chance shook his head. “The truth sucks.”
“Why yes, it does. But I told you it was difficult.” Mac tugged on Chance’s pant leg. “Now the worst is over with, why don’t you join me on the carpet and I’ll help you through your first lesson.”
Chance sighed and conceded. “Fine. You won’t tell Ana though?”
“Not my place to do that. Anyway, once you’re ready, you will.”
As fast as he’d stood up, Chance dropped to the floor, sitting beside Mac, who pointed to the candle on the coffee table that had burned a third of the way down since he’d lit it. Mac said, “Go ahead and allow yourself to focus on the flame.”
With slumped shoulders, Chance stared at the flickering oval of light. It danced on its wick and calmed him while everything else around him fell away. All he could see was its bright flame and hear Mac’s jovial voice. “This is what I had you do when Batukhan brought you to me. You allowed yourself to focus on the fire’s flame and listen to my guidance. I had you concentrate on one of the voices within you so you could push it away to the corners of your mind. We did this three times. The impressions of the other shifters you pushed aside must have made way for the personification that stepped forward. It’s not common to have a voice or power rise above the host’s psyche following this healing practice, which is why I was unprepared for your actions. I am unsure if you remember, but Batukhan also told me this personality spoke through you, claiming to have crossed his and Lifen’s path nearly a century ago. This is why I suspect it was not the sickness that took hold of you so completely, but something more dangerous. What I want you to do now is try to remember these events so that you may forgive yourself.”
“I’d rather learn a new form or have you drive a stake through my hand,” Chance said under his breath.
“If you knock me out again, I might consider it. C’mon, you already did the hardest part, admitting what you’re angry about. The only way to move past what happened to you is facing everything you experienced. This is all I will ask from you for the day. I’ll reward your efforts with a sweet cake that will make you forget your mother’s name . . . how about it?”
Mac was out of his mind if he though sweets could ever lure Chance to do anything. He could care less about food right now. That hiding place in the trees was far more appealing than facing the memories that felt more like clips from horror movies. His shoulders were squared and his arms crossed. Chance could only imagine what his face looked like at that moment.
“If not for my cake, then will you do it for Ana?” Mac asked.
“If you knew me, you’d know I’d do anything for her,” Chance said through pursed lips.
“Good to know. Then, would you please focus on the candle flame and allow yourself to clear your mind? Long, deep breaths in and out. Feel the oxygen pulling all the way down your abdomen and with every exhalation, blow out all of your anxiety, pain and fear. Find yourself at peace.”
Chance closed his eyes. If he was going to do this, he needed to tune out his surroundings. He did as Mac asked and took in a large lungful of air. What he really needed right now was his grandfather. If Niyol were here with him right now, what would he say? Chance felt his grandfather’s presence before he heard his deep whisper in his thoughts. Patience, Chance. Breathe in and out. Be calm and allow yourself to find your center.
Just knowing Niyol was with him gave Chance strength. Niyol was there in spirit and offering his support. Chance reopened his eyes and found the flickering flame atop the candle on the coffee table. Its light was mesmerizing and it allowed him to continue to relax into his body. The blue power within him flowed throughout his cells and helped to soothe his prior agitation. He was ready.
Mac’s voice filtered into his ears. “The next part is very simple. I want you to remember back to when you visited me at my campsite with Batukhan. I don’t want you to hold back. Let it all in.”
Swallowing once, Chance tugged on the edge of the memory and like a loose thread on a sweater, it unraveled. He recalled his search through the wilderness to find Mac’s strange, unknown scent, which had led to the discovery of his first Sasquatch spotting and Mac’s primitive camp in the middle of nowhere. He relived his experience in front of the campfire while pushing Balam’s, Nastas’s and Markus’s voices to the far reaches of his mind. Then the most painful part of all. He felt, heard and saw everything like he was trapped in a glass box. Anxiety gripped his chest and he gasped for air.
Mac’s warm hand settled over Chance’s heart and the intensity of his suffering lifted enough for him to watch the events that he’d blocked out over the last few days. He observed in shame that he’d clubbed Mac, and attacked and taunted Batukhan before running off to find Ana. So much anger, hunger and condescension filled his senses that it was shocking to him. There were segments he hadn’t even recalled that were fresh for him now.
“Well?” Mac’s voice surprised him. “What do you hear?”
Mac positioned himself in front of Chance so he could no longer see the candle flame. His eyes became unfocused before centering on Mac’s face.
“Is it your own thoughts you hear? Your personality you feel?”
The pleasure he experienced after knocking out Mac echoed in his mind. His inclination was to shy away from the memory in shame, but something held his notice. For the first time he fully realized that the voice th
at had ordered him around wasn’t his own. The enjoyment he felt when toying with Batukhan and Mac was separate from his own distaste.
“No, it’s different.”
Mac looked relieved. “Is this your first time realizing that?”
“Yeah.”
“So, now are you ready to let go of another’s soul shame, pushing you to take action?”
“Another soul?” Chance asked.
Mac gave a grim nod. “Yes.”
Chapter 4
Ana tried to pay attention to Batukhan as he stood in the large paddock teaching them about the jaw pressure of a wolf, but her thoughts kept straying. Any other day she would have been fascinated by this information. Right now, Chance was hiding somewhere. Batukhan and Derek had insisted she leave him be, that it was best to give him space, but that went against her instincts. All she wanted to do was to go help him. If he wanted her to or not. The only problem was, what they’d said made sense.
“If you go after him, you’ll just push him away,” Derek had said. “I’m a guy, I know what I’m talking about.” He’d smirked.
So, she reluctantly went with Jordan and Derek to the animal shelter to have their first training lesson with Batukhan. He seemed like a nice man. Nothing like what Lifen had previously suggested about him. He reminded her of Niyol in some ways. His patience and peaceful attitude were relaxing to be around.
“Okay boys,” Batukhan said. “Why don’t you shift into whichever animals you were last working on and take some time moving around in this area. I’m going to have a word with Ana.” He walked over to her.
Her cheeks flushed and she worried that he’d noticed she hadn’t been paying attention. Had she been that obvious? Was she going to get in trouble? She studied his face and decided he wasn’t angry with her, but she was still apprehensive about what he wanted to talk to her about.
“Is there a place we can speak in private?” he asked while looking over his shoulder at the boys.
Ascension Page 3