Trina frowned. “I have no male relatives."
Jeremy shrugged. “He was apparently satisfied that you were H and deemed you worthy."
"Worthy enough to kill?” It was almost laughable.
"I think I can fill in some blanks on this,” Wyatt volunteered. “I overheard Liam and Viola Prentice arguing prior to our departure. They were fighting over which bodies to possess. Sex ... uhm ... became an issue. He wanted a beautiful woman. She wanted a well-endowed man."
Trina's cheeks warmed. Ages old, supposedly wise, and still being ruled by their libidos. “All right. Could there be anything in my paternal line to link me to the clan? There has to be some reason why this is happening to me. And why now, and not earlier in my life?"
"Genetically, no. The best I can do is a family tree search.” Jeremy absentmindedly tapped the keyboard. “Even that's only going to lead so far. The clan clearly came from Central America. Your ancestors came from Europe."
"Russia. My great-great-grandfather managed to escape around the time of the revolution."
"Name?” His hands remained poised over the keyboard in anticipation of a reply.
"I can't say with any certainty, but I believe it was Victor Gregory changed from Gregorovich when he immigrated. However, my mother was fond of weaving grand fairy tales of who we once were, how we'd fallen from royalty to commoner in a flash. As a child I believed her, because it gave me something to hold onto amid the turmoil. Once I was old enough to do a little research on my own, I realized the Russian royalty line was pure crap born of a delusional mind. Many delusional minds, since it was passed to her from her mother and so on up the line. I made sure the tale ended with me."
Trina expected Jeremy to make fun of her, that the others would give her that too-familiar, oh-you-poor-thing look. But no one laughed, snickered, or made a face. No one squeezed her shoulder or patted her back in sympathy, either. She'd never appreciated being ignored more.
Concentration pulled Jeremy's eyebrows together. “I'll access the institute's system and start doing a records search from your family line backward, see what I can find. Between the information on both systems, I ought to find something."
"We should probably leave you to your work.” Carmen tried to herd them toward the exit. “Trina and I have things to talk about, plan for."
"It won't take long for me to know if I have an answer or not. Pull up some chairs. This is starting to look promising.” He never took his eyes off the monitor. Trina had never known his fingers and mind could work so quickly.
Wyatt, Barry, and Joaquin retrieved chairs from different areas of the vast room. Trina barely heard them. Her gaze was riveted to the information Jeremy processed, discounted, accepted, and compiled. Small tiles scattered over the monitor in an order only he could decipher.
She felt a chair against the back of her legs but only sat when Wyatt gently pushed down on her shoulders. She sank to the edge, loving how Wyatt stood over her, the feeling of being protected from the world he exuded.
Trina glanced up at him and put her hand over the fingers that still rested on her shoulder. He met her gaze and brushed his thumb over her knuckles. This was what love felt like. A look. A touch.
Beside her, Carmen heaved a world-weary sigh. Trina tore her gaze from Wyatt and looked at the other woman. Carmen folded her hands on her lap and laced her fingers in a white-knuckled grip.
"Interesting,” Jeremy said, pulling Trina's attention his way. “I see a pattern here, but I don't know what it means."
She leaned closer for a better look, even though she didn't have a clue what she was looking at or for. “What kind of pattern? All of them dying before they're thirty-five?"
Jeremy swiveled his head her way. “Yes. Leaving behind a daughter. Both parents die at the same time."
She shook her head. “My father took off before I was three."
"No.” He clicked on one of the tiles. “He was camping and killed by a bear. Your mother died—"
"I know how my mother died.” She swallowed the knot in her throat. “She knifed her latest boyfriend, then stabbed herself."
Jeremy leaned over to touch her knee. “Sorry, Trina.” He looked back at the screen. “It's a consistent pattern throughout. Violent death. Murder, suicide, animal attacks. The only one unaccounted for is your great-great-grandfather, Victor Gregorovich, changed to Victor Gregory when he immigrated to the United States. He married, returned to Europe to fight in World War I, and was never heard from again. His wife died during the Spanish flu epidemic. Their daughter's name was Katrina, so you were apparently named after her."
"So I've been told. It was my father's doing. But God help the poor soul who made the mistake of calling me Kat. My mother went into an unholy rage each time."
The hum of computer equipment filled the sudden silence in the room. Trina clutched her stomach. Oh, God. Kat. Cat. Nausea churned her stomach. Trina pressed her lips tight to keep the contents in place. Everyone must have thought it, but no one said a word. The elephant in the room.
She came from a family of shape-shifters. It explained everything, except how and why.
"Do you think he's still alive? Victor Gregory?” she finally managed to ask.
"There's no record of him anywhere,” Jeremy said. “No death certificate. No military records. No work record, marriage ... nothing. He just disappeared."
"Like we have to do, when we've overstayed our welcome in an area too long,” Barry said.
More silence. Shape-shifters had very long lives and had to cover it. If Trina could manage to survive her first shift...
"I've come up with another theory that bounces off Wyatt's theory of more shape-shifters out there.” Jeremy looked at Wyatt. “But I don't think they're from your particular clan.” He spun back toward the monitor, clicking tiles open. “According to records, Victor Gregory indicates he was originally from Siberia, the Tunguska region. Date of birth 1896. No living relatives. He would have been twelve at the time of the Tunguska impact event."
More tiles opened. Wyatt's fingers tensed on her shoulder.
"This is the genetic migratory path for those in Haplogroup X.” Jeremy opened a few more windows. “It also correlates with the impact events. Your creation myth says you were born of stardust. When the meteor that formed the Chicxulub crater fell to Earth, it brought with it life-altering properties.” He glanced up at them. “Those properties caused mutations and created the shape-shifters."
Barry leaned in for a closer look at the crater data files on the monitor. “But there are impact craters all over the world."
Jeremy tilted his face toward the man. “Yes, there are."
Barry's complexion paled. “How could we not know?"
"You've hidden it from the world. Why wouldn't others? Legends exist all over the world of people who can change forms. Some theorize all legends and myths have basis in fact. If skinwalkers were determined to rid the world of shape-shifters, who's to say others haven't tried to do so as well. You've done everything possible to protect yourselves. Why wouldn't others?"
"We've followed jaguar sightings all over the world.” Joaquin swept his hand over thin air. “We've actively been looking for more jaguar shape-shifters."
"But not other varieties of shape-shifters.” The defeat in Wyatt's voice broke Trina's heart. He'd tried so hard to lead, to do the right thing.
"We'd have to do a more thorough analysis,” Jeremy said. “At this point, I don't know how we'd do so without compromising ourselves. Maybe the point isn't that everyone with Haplogroup X is a shape-shifter. Maybe the point is that those with X had the ability to have their DNA altered by the properties inherent in the celestial body that struck Earth. So in our area, jaguar mutated with human. In Arizona, perhaps some mountain lion mutated with human. That's, of course, just speculation, since we don't know where these presumed mountain lion shape-shifters came from. For all we know, a lizard could have been mutated into a dragon. At this point, without solid pr
oof, all we can do is speculate and expound on possible theories. The mutations could have occurred over millions of years, or more rapidly, if a bigger pool of genetic material was more readily available. Again, without more research, we don't know.” Jeremy looked back at the monitor. “But I'd love to find out."
"And that makes me—what?” Trina arched her neck to look at Wyatt.
It took forever for him to meet her gaze. “I don't know, love."
"This is ridiculous.” Carmen's laugh sounded overloud in the cavernous room. Almost forced. “If this is remotely true, what in the world would mountain lion shape-shifters from Arizona want with us?"
Barry pushed upright. “Hopefully, we'll find out before they kill us all."
"They—whoever they are—have been after us since the wildfire.” Joaquin nodded. “They found the women alone and attacked. Somehow, they determined we were a threat then.” His gaze swiveled to his wife. “What happened?"
Anger widened her eyes. She splayed her hands against her chest. “Are you telling me this is my fault? How dare you! My sisters were killed! I lost my baby! I was left for dead. If it wasn't for that paramedic—"
"Look him up, Jeremy.” Wyatt sidestepped Trina and hovered over the computer while he waited for his answer.
In minutes Jeremy was shaking his head. “No one by that name in the system."
"Good God,” Joaquin gasped. “He's one of them."
"And he was there last night,” Barry added. “I'll alert the others.” He darted off without another word.
Carmen slumped in her chair, face buried in her hands. “This is a fucking nightmare."
Yep. That pretty much summed it up. Trina stood, reached for Wyatt, then pulled away. She started to wrap her arms around her midriff, then stopped. There was no use trying to contain what was inside.
"Do you suppose he's still out there?” Don't you dare cry. “Victor Gregory?"
"Without others to have guided him in the shifting process, it's difficult to say,” Joaquin softly replied.
"And it's impossible to track him genetically, because he left no sons,” Jeremy added. “As far as we know."
No, only a path of death lay in his wake with Trina at the end of the trail. “I can't live like this."
Her mother's words haunted her. How many times had she heard that phrase as a child? She thought at the time it was the men her mother referred to, how they used her and left. Now she knew differently. It was her mother pursuing them, her body craving endorphins through sex until even that wasn't enough. In the end, the cat inside finally came out, raw and untamed, an controllable force that killed anyone within swiping range. God, the fear would be overwhelming. It was no wonder all her Gregory ancestors ended their own lives.
Trina knew that same fear. As new shifters with no guidance, all manner of horrors would have gone through their heads: schizophrenia, insanity ... werewolf. If she hadn't seen what Wyatt and his people were like, how they ... changed, Trina would—hell, she did—worry about the same thing.
The family curse. She'd been exhibiting signs of it and fighting against the inevitable her whole life. It was a wonder her mother had let her live. Although, when she let herself remember, there were times...
Trina's heart stuttered. She remembered waking in the night once to find her mother standing over her with a knife, poised to strike. No, not a knife. She now realized. Claws fully extended. What Trina had passed off as a nightmare had, in actuality, been real.
"Fight it, girl,” her mother had hissed during a drunken stupor. “Don't let it eat you alive."
Thank God she had Wyatt.
"I have to know what I am.” She steadied her trembling chin, squeezed her arms against the roiling hunger deep inside. “It's time to do this."
Carmen jerked to her feet. “But the preparation takes time."
"A luxury I don't think we have. These other shifters are determined. They've killed three of your people in less than a day. One of them followed Wyatt and me to my house, determined to get to us. This needs to happen now before someone else dies."
"No.” Carmen shook her head hard. “It's too risky."
Wyatt tucked Trina under his arm. “Nothing is worth your life, Trina."
She pressed her palm to his chest. His heartbeat strengthened her resolve. “Isn't it better to do this now in a controlled environment? Please. I need to know what's in me."
He grabbed her hand, searched her eyes. Trina didn't blink. Finally, he nodded.
Carmen muttered a curse and stormed up the stairs.
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Chapter Ten
"I still think this is too risky. Something so important shouldn't be rushed. It's an experience to be savored.” Carmen smacked her fist onto the kitchen table to punctuate the sentence. Ice rattled in the glasses of tea before them.
Trina tried not to sigh. She wondered if Wyatt and Joaquin were as tired of this discussion as she was. They could have been done with it by now, or well on the way to being done. Maybe Carmen knew something the men didn't. After all, she'd been through the transition before. Carmen's experience could be vastly different from Ka-ra's. It wouldn't hurt to hear her version of events.
"Perhaps it would help if you told me how it was for you."
Carmen leaned closer, hands splayed on the table, as if she were confiding a deep secret. “It was frightening. Painful. I thought it would never end. Hours upon hours of torture, waiting for the cat in me to crawl its way out, a million times worse than childbirth."
Trina glanced at Wyatt and Joaquin. Both wore puzzled expressions and were exchanging glances of their own. She accessed Ka-ra's memories. Both men had attended Ka-ra's transition and Carmen's. It'd been a celebration of life for family and friends. Something wasn't right. And how could Carmen compare it to childbirth, if she'd never had a child?
Trina traced the condensation on her glass, focusing on the bead of moisture that trickled down and not the lies on Carmen's lips. “I understand Ka-ra hungered."
Carmen cocked her head to one side. “Ka-ra?"
Trina tightened her jaw to keep her mouth from gaping open. Carmen and Ka-ra were best friends. Joaquin's sister. Wyatt/El-ian's mate. How could she not know her?
Joaquin covered the silence by slipping his hand over Carmen's arm. “Your sister, remember?"
More confusion rattled through Trina. She sorted through those memories once more. No, Ka-ra was Joaquin's sister.
Carmen blushed and ducked her eyes. “Of course, the trauma of that first mountain lion attack blocked so much out. It was agonizing, watching my sisters die that day. There wasn't a thing I could do to help Ka-ra or..."
"Lupe,” Wyatt added.
Carmen gave a weak smile. “Yes, Lupe."
Trina covered her shock with a sip of ice tea. She was lying or delusional ... or both, and the men knew it.
Carmen patted Joaquin's hand and slipped free of his touch. Another indulgent smile came Trina's way. “Yes, the hunger was the worst. We had to fast three days before the transition."
No, you feasted before the transition ceremony.
"I'd nearly forgotten that.” Carmen waved her fingers through the air. “There's no way you can do this without having fasted first. So there you have it."
So there. Trina resisted the urge to look at the men for guidance. “Then I'll begin the fast right now.” She shoved the glass away. “I presume water will be allowed?"
"Yes.” Carmen nodded.
"Three days of fasting, water only. Anything else?"
"No. Three days ought to take care of everything.” Her smile chilled Trina to the bone.
Joaquin brushed his fingers up her arm. “You are wise as usual. It's been a rough twenty-four hours. Why don't you rest? You got little sleep last night."
"But ... the funeral arrangements..."
"We'll handle everything.” He dropped his hand to her belly. “Considering the precious gift you could be carrying, your well-being is ou
r biggest concern."
"Thank you ... my love.” Carmen kissed him, then excused herself to Wyatt and Trina.
Joaquin bathed her departure in a smile. It faded once he saw her disappear from view. “How could I have been so blind? She's no more Carmen than I am. All these months of agony. I should have known no grief in the world would put a rift like this between us."
"None of us realized, Joaquin. Whoever she is, she played on our grief and fear, using it to distract us from...” Wyatt closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Gods, from what?"
"Could she be one of these skinwalkers you fought? Maybe one of them got to her while we were all in the Yucatán."
Both men shook their heads, but it was Joaquin who answered. “Skinwalkers retain the memories of the person whose body they stole. She doesn't remember anything."
"Could that be a result of the attack on her and her sisters?” From the little Trina knew of it, it would have put anyone over the edge. Three sisters out for a hike, enjoying nature. A wildfire springs up on one side of them, mountain lions on the other. One sister watches the other two die and can't do a thing because she's fighting for her life and that of the child she carried.
"We thought that ourselves until now.” Joaquin stared out the bay window. “The transition ceremony is ... How could she forget her first time? Our first time? We mated that night. She looks like her, but now I know for a fact that woman isn't Carmen. I should have known it from the start, when I couldn't feel her in my heart.” He snorted. “She doesn't even like to swim anymore. Carmen loved the water. She won't even mindspeak."
"Won't, or can't?” she asked.
The men's expressions tightened.
"Would her DNA tell us anything?” Trina motioned toward the glass Carmen had used. The men glanced at it from the corner of their eyes.
Into the Night [Into the Heart 2] Page 14