Finding My Pack
Page 30
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Remington
I find a seat against the wall next to Jace. We're all watching Kitten, waiting for her to either pass out or move or speak....something. Ash is starting to worry the fuck out of me, as he keeps petting the stuffed wolf that he shares with Kitten. Seeing a large, full grown man playing with a child's toy is quite disturbing, especially since I know him. Ash doesn't have a soft center to his outer shell. Or at least he didn't until our woman arrived. After some time, Kellan takes a seat next to me. He looks exhausted and worried, we all are. We need to have a meeting, talk about what happened and where we go from here. But I know that that I won't have their full attention until Kitten either falls asleep or comes out of it.
....................
Kitten
I grip the pencil tighter in my hand and bring it to the paper. I begin to draw the scene in the hole. The big black wolf with his gleaming white teeth. Teeth around a man's neck, blood shooting out of the puncture wounds, the man's wide and fearful eyes. Eyes that know what's happening to him, knowing that it's too late. One of his eyes is gushing blood, it's streaming down his face. I remember the anger I felt as the man came at me. Anger at being left alone. Anger at thinking that even though I managed to find a family...I was going to die in a ditch anyway. Something I've spent my whole life trying to avoid. As soon as the picture is done, I rip the page away.
On the new blank page, I draw the second man. I don't feel anger when I see him. I feel sadness. Sadness for the choices he made that led him to his death. Sadness that another soul left this earth. A soul that was not meant for evil, not meant to do bad things, but did them anyway and led him here, where he died of a cracked skull. I continue drawing, continue to gain back my feelings, gain control of them, work out the way I feel about each 'photo' in my mind. I finally pick up the paintbrush, deciding that my last drawing needs to be in color. Too many emotions flood me to use just gray. Time passes as I use color after color, stroke after stroke, lines, circles, layers, everything to complete what I see in my mind. I move at a frantic pace, eager to get it out of my head. I need to see this, really see it. THIS is what kept me going, THIS is what I would have regretted leaving if I had been taken from this world tonight.
When I'm done, my body slumps back to the floor. I'm tired. Mentally, emotionally and physically. I look at my painting, happy to have it in front of me. I can hold it now. I made it mine. My eyes flutter closed and I try to lift them, but it doesn't happen. I don't know what happens after that.
.......................
Reed
I saw the anger building in Kitten as she sat there. It was slow, but unmistakable. I was expecting her to go into a fit at any moment. I had thought that if she got it all out of her system, she would be okay. It works for me. But she's been sitting there for so long that I lost hope of it working. When she grips the pencil, my heart almost leaps from my throat. She moved! A few minutes later the pencil starts flying over the paper, her face set in rage. It's unnerving, seeing her so angry when she's such a gentle person, but at least she's moving. At least she isn't just sitting there.
Hours pass and the sun is peeking over the horizon before she falls back to the floor, her paintbrush in her hand, laying limply to the side. Paint speckles her face and clothing, but the small smile on her face allows me to breath fully again. She's going to be okay. It worked like I had hoped after all. Ash catches her as she finally passes out, giving into her exhaustion. He places that damn stuffed wolf on her stomach as he picks her up, carrying her to my room next door. We each take turns kissing her forehead, temples and cheeks and then follow Remy to his office.
Tristan nudges my shoulder. "How did you know that would work?" He asks me.
I shrug. "I didn't. I just hoped."
"Listen up, we're two short right now so I'm not holding a family meeting just yet. We'll wait for Finn and Logan. Ash and I will patrol the grounds. Kellan, stay with Logan. The rest of you go back to Kitten. Keep her safe. Now..." Remy trails off as Finn rushes in.
"Dump your phones. NOW!" He says and everyone pulls out their phones, stomping them to the ground, or crushing them in their hands.
"I take it that you are going to explain that?" Remy asks.
Finn smiles and shakes his head. "Yeah, because our girl's a genius."
Chapter 28
Finn
I don’t feel guilty for killing two people like I thought I would. I've been waiting for the feelings to come, but they haven't. How interesting. I suppose that killing to protect my brother makes me feel differently on the subject. I feel guilty for leaving Ash and Kitten on their own, but I knew Ash was more than capable, and Kitten is a strong girl. I had to keep reminding Kellan of that on the way here.
When they showed up, covered in mud and blood, I had known something had happened, but they made it back and that's what matters here. I had watched Kitten pull away from Remy and walk in a trance-like state to the house. The others probably thought she was in shock, but I knew better. Kitten needed time to process. She was stuck in her head. That's to be expected with someone with her mental capabilities after a traumatic event. I saw her drop several items to the floor from out of her shirt and heard her say my name, pointing to them. I'm sure that's all she could manage at the time, and it was okay with me, I'm glad she could do that much.
I'm unaware of what prompted her to retrieve these items, but I could kiss the snot out of her. Most of the papers had mud smeared on them, but I managed to get most of it off without damaging them. She brought home a goldmine of information on our attackers. We knew before that a man named Charles Daily was interested in her, but we didn't know why. The first thing I did was retrieved the cell phones. One, I recognized as Ash's. It was broken, explaining why we couldn't reach him earlier. The second cell phone wasn't any of ours so I knew she must have taken it from one of the attackers. I ran it to my room instantly. Hooking it up to a USB cord and uploading all the information it held onto my laptop.
While the phone was being taken care of, I returned to gather all the papers. Filling the bathtub with cold water, I slowly dragged each paper through it, removing the mud and leaving the ink. I set them on the floor to dry, reading each one carefully. One was simply a list of names. I don't know how that fits in yet, but I'm sure I will soon. One name stood out though. Adam Vanderson. Considering how he treated kitten previously, I doubt this is a list of people that want to bake Kitten cookies. A couple more were hand written notes on Kitten's activities outside of the house. They never stopped watching her. We would have smelled wolves, so they must have humans working for them. I'll need time to analyze the rest of the information, so I leave them to dry.
Kitten also managed to get the man's wallet, which gives us an ID on him, his address, and a possible lead. There's also a set of keys, so we don't even have to break and enter when and if we go there. How convenient. I set Ash's clothes aside, not needing to check those. I find several hairs and gather them to get to Kellan to run tests later. The last thing I check over is a square that's wrapped in both fabric and plastic. I'm a little wary of it to be honest. For all I know, it could be a bomb. It doesn't smell like a bomb though. It smells like many, many wolves. Intriguing. I use my pocket knife to carefully cut the plastic away. It's possible that we can retrieve fingerprints or other information from it. I treat the fabric in the same manner, bagging both of them up for later inspection.
Once it's unwrapped, I see that it is a book. Not a square but a rectangle, the fabric just altered its shape. There is a crest on the front of it instead of a title. I recognize it as the symbol of the Mating Games. It's the family crest of the oldest known born werewolf family. How those men came to have anything from them, I'll never know. That family is more secure than the President, Queen, and every dictator out there combined.
I flip through the book, being careful not to tear the pages. I can't believe what I'm seeing. It seems to be a complete history of wolv
es. Family trees, information on mating and bonding. This is more information than we have EVER had. A lot of what we know, we figured out ourselves. We were all left for dead, without a mentor to guide us through the werewolf world. Over time, we've picked up little things here and there from encounters we've had but this....this is amazing. I'm simply in awe. I don't have time to read through this properly at the moment, but I will.
As I go to set it down, it slips from my hand, and I catch it awkwardly. Several folded papers slip from the back of it. The first is a short list of female names, most of them crossed off. Kitten's name is on the list. The second paper is a list of female names in one column, the ones that weren't crossed off the first paper, and then a list of male names in another column. The third paper has several lines drawn across it, connecting the names with dollar amounts written above them. Kitten's name has no line or dollar amount, but her name is underlined three times. I don't know what this is, but I know it can't possibly be good. I stuff the papers back into the book and take everything with me to my room.
I check on the cell phone and see that it's done uploading. I scroll through the pictures first, seeing ones of Kitten, ones with us with her, ones of Adam and Kitten that look older, before she came to us. I switch to the text messages and at first, I'm confused. I see a text that I sent to Remington while we were at Kitten's party, telling him I'd like to start a science program for the kids there. It clicks then. They were copying our messages to each other! They have access to our phones!
I shoot up out of my chair, knocking it back as I run to find my brothers. We need to cut them off before we unwittingly give out any other information. What do they know already? How long have they been doing this? WHY are they doing this? I rush in to Remington's office, nearly breathless with my worry. I order them to destroy their phones, and thankfully, they do as I asked before asking questions.
"I take it that you are going to explain that?" Remy asks.
I smile at them. "Yeah, because our girl's a genius." I tell him as I take a seat on his desk. He can yell at me later for that. Right now, I need to catch them up to speed. "That stuff kitten brought in with her? Well, it's all very useful information. Without it, we could have only guessed as to who was behind tonight’s attack. She managed to get a cell phone off one of them and I've determined that they've had access to our phones. I don't know for how long yet because I ran down here to warn you."
"What do you mean they've had access to our phones?" Jace demands.
"Just what I said. I saw a text message that I sent to Remington while we were at Kitten's party. Same time stamp and everything. I can only assume that they were receiving them as we sent them." I explain.
Jace's face pales. "That means they know about Big Mike!"
"That means they know about a hell of a lot." Remy says, his expression darkening.
"There's something else you should know. Kitten also returned with a book that looks like it came straight from the Ivaskov family's personal library. There was paperwork with her name all over it tucked inside. I could use some help figuring out what it all means." I tell them, mostly talking to Remy. He nods, running a hand through his hair.
"Go back to the phone, trace what you can. They know we know about the phones now, they'll be dumping everything as soon as possible. Ash and I are going on patrol. As soon as Logan awakes, we'll have a family meeting, sharing everything we know. Reed, you go get Kitten's drawings, maybe they show something we missed, she has a real eye for details." He orders, smiling at his last statement.
Remy continues. "Jace and Tristan, guard Miss Kitten, Kellan you return to Logan, make sure he's still stable. Let's move people, we have work to do." He claps his hands and we scatter, each going in different directions to our own tasks.
............
Reed
I walk with Tristan and Jace up to my rooms. Neither of them say anything about what Finn just shared so I don't either. I'll save it for the meeting. They walk into my bedroom and each take a side of the bed, climbing in with a still sleeping Kitten. I wish I could do the same, but I have other things to do right now.
I back out of the room, entering the door to my studio. The room's a mess but it usually stays that way. It's the way I like it. I scoop up Kitten's discarded sketches, looking over each one. She is truly talented. It's a shame that she only draws horrible scenes from real life experiences. Poor girl. Remy is right about her attention to detail, they are so life like it's almost like looking at black and white pictures. Her shading is phenomenal. I turn to the easel, thinking I will take that as well, but stop dead in my tracks, the sketches falling to the floor.
Kitten has painted us. All of us. Sitting around the kitchen island, probably at dinner. It's from her view point. I recognize her hands on the outside of the painting, her pointer fingers and thumbs forming a heart around the scene. Remy's sitting at the head of the table, looking stern, Ash looking just as broody as he really is in all black. Jace with a glow of gold around him, Logan looking mischievous, his blue streak in his hair standing out. She painted me bent over a notebook, pencil in my hand. I smile at that. Finn is reading a book that's open in front of him, Kellan has a stethoscope around his neck and a white lab coat on. Tristan is standing behind the lot of us, one hand holding a spatula, the other a plate of something. He wears a smile on his face, looking directly at me. Or well, Kitten, since this is a painting viewed through her eyes.
I can see where she had trouble with the details, our faces being a bit vague, objects blending together. It's an absolutely gorgeous painting. A hell of a thing for a first timer, but it's obvious that painting frustrated her, she likes the precise lines that you get with a pencil. I remember the small smile she had on her face as she gazed at her work. She was smiling at us. She painted a heart around us, using her hands. Does this mean that she loves us? All of us? I'm usually very good at deciphering hidden meanings behind art, but I see no hidden meaning here. Perhaps I'm just too close to the artist to see it. I love this girl more than life. Seeing her artistic abilities only cements it for me. If she wants to continue to paint, I'd love to give her lessons, teach her everything she wants to know. I can't wait for that. I pick up the drawings once again and head to Finn's room. We have a lot of work to do.
.........
Kitten
I come awake and am instantly aware that I'm in Reed's cloud bed. It takes too much effort to pry my lids open so I know I was crying. There's crust ringing my eyes, gross. I rub at them, yawning and stretching my tired muscles. I don't see anyone around and take the time to stare at the ceiling, reliving last night. I know I need to see them. To talk to them. To thank them for all they did for me. I blush from head to toe thinking about just how close I was to Tristan and Reed last night. I want to be mad about it, for the invasion of privacy. But I can't be. They took care of me when I couldn't take care of myself. I wanted desperately to be clean last night and they knew that and made it happen.
My hand flops down on the bed, landing on something furry. It's AJ. Ash must have brought him for me. I owe Ash my life. I feel instantly guilty that I was mad at him for leaving me when he hadn't. My panic made me doubt my trust in him. I know Remy made the call to leave us behind and that's why I had to ride Ash as he ran back. I want to be mad about that too, but I've never been in charge of a group of people before. Especially not in a situation like that. I trust him though. Trust him to make the hard calls. He didn't just leave me, he left me with Ash. That makes it different doesn't it?
I run a hand over my face, willing myself to get up. To go see my boys. I drag myself up, giving the cloud bed one last, longing look. I shuffle down the stairs and into the kitchen. Picking your feet up when you walk is overrated. They all stare at me as I walk in, Reed looking at me lovingly. I grunt at them. It's the best 'good morning' I can manage at the moment. I see that someone, probably Ash, has already made coffee and I grunt again in utter excitement at the sight of the half-filled pot. I think I
've developed an unhealthy obsession with the bitter black liquid. Maybe I should look into what makes it so addictive. Eh, another day perhaps.
The guys stay silent as I pour myself a cup, chugging the burning stuff down, and refill the mug. I take the open stool next to Jace and Kellan. Logan is across from me, looking rumpled and tired.
"You okay there Kitten?" Logan asks. His voice is scratchy, and it lacks his usual humor. I nod my head once, and grunt again, tilting my chin up at him. He laughs, then coughs. "Yeah, I'm okay too. Nice cave woman thing you've got going on this morning." There's my fun boy I know and love. I give him a small grin and his eyes sparkle.
Reed comes over to me with a wet washrag, taking my chin between his fingers and scrubbing at my face. "You got paint splatter and pencil all over your face sweetie." His eyes shine with what I think is adoration. I blush again, I had no idea. I guess I should have looked in the mirror.
"Don't be embarrassed, it's the sexiest I've ever seen you look my little artist." He kisses my lips lightly, washing the gray off my hands before walking back to the sink.
Tristan sits a plate of toast, eggs and bacon in front of me, kissing the top of my head as he does. No one's really talking as we eat our breakfasts, which is odd, but I don't feel like talking either so I let it go. I notice a book in Finn's hand. He's reading it as he eats. All I see is the cover.