Bumble

by Connie Suttle

  * * *

  "Young man, would you like a soft drink or a bottle of water?" Ashe stared at the salesman, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

  "No, thank you," Ashe said as politely as he could. Surrounded by polished tile floors and shiny new vehicles, Ashe and Radomir remained inside the dealership while his mother and father test-drove the new SUV.

  "Young one, I can feel your anger. One must learn how to hide such emotions," Radomir said softly when the salesman walked away.

  Ashe blinked at the Enforcer. Perhaps it was easy for someone older than nine hundred years to hide emotions; he'd had plenty of time to learn, Ashe thought. And Radomir had to be older than nine hundred, since someone had been sent that had to be older than Old Harold. Ashe still didn't know why that was. Sure that he wasn't supposed to know for some reason, Ashe wiggled farther into his plastic chair and let his hands drop to his side, settling for a good, hard grip on the edge of his seat instead. When would people think he was old enough to know things? It made him angry that they kept their secrets. A television was still on inside the dealership, and Ashe's attention diverted to it when a newscaster announced that a child had been abducted in Little Rock, Arkansas. An Amber Alert had been issued for the thirteen-year-old.

  "Authorities are now becoming concerned, as it has been revealed through an unidentified source that the parents of this child, as well as the parents of murdered children in Saint Louis and Fort Myers, Florida, all went to the same fertility clinic in St. Louis. While authorities have yet to confirm or deny these allegations, it has put many parents on alert," the female anchor said. Hands now in his lap and fingers clenched, Ashe wanted more than anything to have access to a computer and the internet right then. He hadn't gotten the ages of the children in St. Louis, but the twins in Fort Myers had been only a little older than he was. The one from Little Rock had just celebrated a birthday weeks earlier. Ashe would turn thirteen in June. He shivered visibly at the thought.

  "It's just what I wanted," Aedan and Adele were back and ready to purchase the SUV. Ashe stared at his mother. Would she answer his questions? She'd never said where the donated egg had come from, or given any other information. Would it be like so many other things? A secret to be kept until Ashe reached some magical age in the future, when the adults thought he might be capable of handling the truth as they saw it?

  "Young one, come," Radomir touched Ashe's shoulder gently. Ashe blinked at the tall Enforcer. That's what he was to all of them. Young one. Ashe stood and followed Radomir.

  Ashe rode home with Radomir in Adele's old Ford while Aedan and Ashe's mother drove the new Escalade. The other one had been totaled in the accident. Aedan liked his comfortable vehicles; Ashe knew that much. Radomir glanced in Ashe's direction at times, but never said anything. His mind on other things, Ashe was perfectly content not to talk.

  "Ashe, it's late and you have school tomorrow," Adele said when he and Radomir walked into the kitchen later. Nodding, Ashe went toward the middle door and clumped down the steps, not bothering to wish his parents good night. Dressing in pajamas and brushing his teeth, Ashe turned out his bedroom light, made sure no one was around to see or hear and booted up his computer.

  At times like these, the internet was his best friend. Pulling up information on the deaths in St. Louis, Ashe sat back in his chair and stared. The four children ranged in age from fourteen to seventeen. He then began to look up other murders in the area. Someone had already thought the same thing, posting information on two other deaths, one young woman who was nineteen and attending college, and a young man who was twenty and working as an employee for the City of St. Louis. The blogger noted that both sets of parents used the same fertility clinic as the others.

  "Where is it?" Ashe was digging through records and other things that he'd filched from the safe inside his father's office. He seldom went inside that small room right off his parents' bedroom. There wasn't any need. Until now. Ashe searched for his birth certificate, hoping other information might be there as well. And why, even if Ashe wasn't involved in any way, would someone target children whose parents visited a fertility clinic? It made no sense to him. The folder that held his birth certificate in his hands, Ashe turned to mist and zipped back to his bedroom.

  Receipts. That's what he found. Payments made to the clinic and to a physician. In St. Louis. There was information, too, (some of which Ashe had difficulty understanding) about the transfer of a frozen embryo to another facility located in London. A great deal of money surrounded that transfer. Ashe had stared at the number of zeros that followed the one at the bottom of that transaction. Only it was listed as a donation. One hundred thousand dollars his father had paid for the transfer of a fertilized egg—Ashe at one stage of his life—to waiting supernatural scientists in London. Ashe hadn't realized his father had that kind of money. But then Aedan had just written a check for the total price of a new SUV, without waiting for the insurance check to come on the last one.

  Disturbed, Ashe misted through the upper floors of his home and settled upon the peak of the roof, staring around him at the ghost town of Cloud Chief.

  * * *

  "Sali, I haven't forgotten that your Aunt Marcie will be here Saturday. I'm sure that Mom and I will be there with cowbells on," Ashe muttered as Sali ran to keep up with Ashe's swift walk toward Transformational Arts. Friday morning had arrived and Ashe suffered the effects of his sleepless night. His eyes felt as if they were filled with sand and he certainly wasn't in the mood to listen to Sali's chatter about his aunt's visit.

  "Dude, you're in another funk," Sali's voice held irritation.

  "What do you think Randy Smith is in?" Ashe snapped.

  "Dude, you don't have to bite my nose," Sali replied, offended.

  "More werewolf euphemisms, Sali?" Ashe increased his pace, leaving Sali behind, staring at his friend's retreating back.

  * * *

  Ashe discovered he wasn't the only one upset. Mrs. Rocklin definitely wasn't herself and called on Dori twice. Dori didn't argue, she merely turned a second time and Ashe gathered her clothing both times, following her to the changing room without being asked. Thankful that he hadn't been called on, Ashe escaped Transformational Arts and headed straight for English class without waiting for Sali.

  "What is wrong with you?" Sali huffed, sliding into his seat next to Ashe.

  "Sali, if I had an hour or two, I might be able to make a dent in what's wrong with me. In the meantime, you'll just have to settle for everything, all right? Everything is wrong with me."

  "Well, let me know when everything isn't wrong with you." Sali turned in his chair and faced the front of the class. Mr. Harris gave the class a reading assignment and told them to start on it right away while he walked out of the classroom at least twice. Ashe glanced furtively at Mr. Harris, who seemed just as distracted as Mrs. Rocklin did. The rest of the day went much the same. Even Principal Billings didn't look happy. Figuring it was because his teachers weren't in a good mood, Ashe ignored the Principal of Cloud Chief Combined.

  "Ashe, are you going to say anything?" his mother had driven the new SUV to pick Ashe up at school. Now she watched him as he wordlessly sat on the passenger seat of the new vehicle.

  "Do you know what I have in common with Randy Smith? What Randy and I have in common with those kids that got killed in St. Louis and Fort Myers and Little Rock? Do you, Mom?" turning away after his outburst, Ashe stared out the window, watching green fields rush past. Spring had come and the hot weather that gripped western Oklahoma every summer wouldn't be far behind. Wheat would be harvested soon, and hay and straw baled. None of that mattered to Ashe at the moment.

  "Ashe, what are you talking about?" Adele pulled over and stopped the SUV, putting it in park and letting it run.

  "Didn't you see the news? Somebody let it slip that all those dead kids' parents went to the same fertility clinic in St. Louis, just like you and Dawn Smith did. Those kids are getting killed, Mom. Somebody is loo
king for them. Tell me why that is." Ashe's breath was ragged and he rushed through the words before he lost his courage to say them.

  "Oh, dear God," Adele muttered. "Ashe, I don't know how you found that out, but you are protected, here. Do you think your father will allow anyone near you?"

  "They didn't have to get close to Randy Smith, did they? They just found a different way to do him in. They're gonna let the werewolves do it," Ashe snapped angrily.

  "We will not discuss this here in the car. I'm taking you home and you will go to your room and stay there until I talk to your father about this. Do you hear me?"

  Ashe didn't say anything. He'd heard, all right. Of all the residents of Cloud Chief, Ashe had the best hearing.

  * * *

  "Ashe, what's this I hear about an argument with your mother?" Aedan's eyes hadn't gone red yet, but Ashe figured that wasn't far off.

  "I can put two and two together, Dad."

  "And that's because you went digging through things without asking," Aedan pointed out judiciously. "Didn't you?"

  "Because nobody tells me anything." Ashe huddled into his seat on the living room sofa. He didn't want to fight with his parents. Didn't want to fight with anyone, if the truth were known. It made him feel nauseous. But this—this was too important to ignore.

  "Son, we're trying to protect you. Granted we didn't put this together until you mentioned it, but every adult in Cloud Chief is committed to protecting the children."

  "Like Randy Smith?"

  "Son, do not bring that up with me. Radomir and I spent more time on that than we should have. The boy will pay the price for a few careless words and a letter afterward. That's Pack business. You know that just as well as anyone here."

  "But what if he's innocent? Doesn't that bother you? That could be me, Dad. It could." Ashe was trying to make his point, but the look on his father's face told Ashe what he needed to know—that his father wouldn't interfere with Randy's execution. "Never mind." Ashe said helplessly. "I can see nobody would interfere if it was me, either."

  "Son, that's enough. You'll do without dinner tonight, and stay in your room." Aedan rose and stalked from the room, his eyes red.

  * * *

  "He refused breakfast," Adele said. "And lunch." Did his mother think he didn't hear? Ashe heard his mother talking with Denise DeLuca. He'd been introduced to Denise's sister, Marcella, but everybody called her Marcie. She had a haunted look in her eyes, in Ashe's estimation. Likely from leaving her two sons behind in Phoenix. Denise sent him to Sali's room, saying Sali was waiting for him there. Ashe wasn't sure he wanted to talk to Sali either.

  "Dude, come look at this!" Sali held what looked like an old family album on his lap as he sat cross-legged on his rumpled bed. "These cars are cool. Grampa had a convertible. Look, Ashe. This is the one we need to get!"

  Unwillingly, Ashe piled onto the bed to look at the car Sali pointed at in an old photograph. An ancient Cadillac convertible, with fins and taillights that reminded Ashe of old movies he'd seen, was depicted in the creased photo. The photograph was so old, it was in black and white. "That's Grampa, sitting in it," Sali said reverently. "Mom told me." Sali tapped the photo. "It was red—the car, that is."

  "It is a nice car," Ashe reluctantly agreed.

  "There's more," Sali flipped a page or two, showing Ashe other vehicles from a bygone era. A few were in color; many were not. The photographs were filled with people Ashe didn't recognize. Sliding against Sali's headboard, Ashe settled in to look at pages of photographs, painstakingly affixed to heavy, yellowed paper by small black wedges holding corners of photos. "Aunt Marcie says that nobody's looked at this in a long time," Sali said, turning another page.

  "I don't think we have any old photographs," Ashe sighed, staring at members of Sali's family, many of whom were deceased.

  "Here, keep our place, I'm going to see if Mom will let me have something to eat," Sali hopped off the bed after shoving the album into Ashe's lap. Ashe sighed and watched as his friend disappeared through the bedroom door, holding their place with a thumb while he looked ahead. On the next to the last page, his eyes opened wide. Then, glancing furtively around, Ashe carefully removed a photograph and slipped it inside a pocket of his cargo pants.

  "Wow, there's one missing," Sali said when they reached that spot later. Sali had been careful with the small bowl filled with potato chips, letting Ashe turn the pages while they searched for more cars. Several photographs of people on horseback were displayed toward the back of the album. Ashe liked those more than Sali did.

  "Could have fallen out," Ashe shrugged, not meeting Sali's eyes.

  "I guess. This is neat, huh? Aunt Marcie said she found this in Grampa's things," Sali said.

  "You never know what you might find when you go looking," Ashe replied enigmatically. "Will the Pack approve her membership?"

  "Probably. Dad said she could take over Pat Roberts' house, if she wanted it and the Pack approves her application."

  "Will she have to marry somebody here?"

  "She gets to pick this time. Most female werewolves don't stay single long unless they want to. Anyway, that's what Dad says."

  "Hey, squirts. Wanna go outside and play football or something?" Marco stood in the doorway, a football in his hands. Ryan Phillips was standing right behind him. "Come on, tapeworm. Let's get some sun while Mom and Dad say it’s okay." Marco was tossing the football from one hand to the other and grinning.

  "He called you tapeworm," Ashe grinned at Sali.

  "Yeah. Let's go." Sali closed the album and left it on the bed as he and Ashe slipped their shoes on and followed Marco and Ryan.

  "Ashe!" Cori hugged him the moment he'd walked outside—Dori and Wynn, with classmates Hayes, Jeff, Larry and a few others were all in the yard. Ashe looked around and saw Mr. Dodd, Micah Rocklin and Mr. Harris, all in the yard, talking quietly together.

  "Ashe, everybody's on alert because Dawn Smith made some threats," Cori whispered in Ashe's ear as she hugged him.

  "What?" Ashe stared into Cori's green eyes, a worried frown plastered on his face. "What kind of threats?" he asked softly.

  "She said Randy might not be the only kid killed," Cori muttered. "Come on, let's go play Frisbee or something."

  Ashe knew it was after six when Winkler, Trace and Jason drove up in Winkler's van. Trace and Jason were still running the store for his mother, and Mr. Winkler must have gone with them. Ashe leapt to catch the Frisbee Sali tossed in his direction, playing in human form this time. Ashe flipped it toward Cori, who laughed and went chasing it. "Dinner will be ready in fifteen," Marcus DeLuca stuck his head out the door and then stood back to allow Winkler, Trace and Jason inside.

  "Heads up!" Sali shouted, hurling the Frisbee in Ashe's direction. Sali's aim was off, forcing Ashe to leap to the side in order to catch the flying disc. The sudden movement saved Ashe's life. A sharp crack sounded and Ashe felt the sting in his right shoulder as his hand stretched out to grab the plastic toy flying toward him. The Frisbee grazed the tips of his fingers as Ashe fell, things going dark around him while shouts and screams sounded. Ashe was unconscious by the time he landed across the new grass in Sali's front yard.

  Chapter 16

  "Ashe, honey, please wake up." His mother was crying and his right shoulder ached.

  "He's coming around," Radomir's voice was close. Ashe blinked at the Enforcer, who stood behind his mother. Adele Evans sat on the edge of Ashe's bed, his fingers gripped tightly in her hand.

  "What happened?" Ashe croaked. His mouth was so dry he almost couldn't speak.

  "Somebody shot you. Your dad, Nathan and most of the werewolves are out looking for the gunman. Or woman."

  "Mom, it wasn't Dawn Smith. You have to believe me," Ashe squeezed his mother’s fingers. Right then, he felt as weak as a newborn lamb.

  "Baby, I want to believe you. I do. But what if you're wrong?" Adele choked back a sob.

  "I'm not."

  "Ashe, do you need so
mething for pain?" Radomir asked. "I should go help your father while I can."

  "Mom, do we have ibuprofen?" Ashe's pain was waking. "Who got the bullet out?"

  "It went all the way through, young one," Radomir almost smiled at Ashe. "While I have some experience removing bullets from a vampire's flesh, I would have been afraid to take one from your shoulder. Thankfully, that was not necessary, although you have wounds on both sides, now." He pointed to Ashe's shoulder. "We have bandaged the wounds as well as we could, but you must rest after your mother brings the medicine."

  "Mom, they were aiming for my heart. I jumped to catch the Frisbee. Sali's terrible aim saved my life." Adele wiped away more tears at Ashe's explanation.

  "We'll buy Sali a nice dinner soon," she said, and rose to go find the bottle of pain reliever.

  "I will go now, since the young one is awake," Radomir did smile this time. He nodded at Ashe and left the room.

  Ashe discovered he still wore the cargo pants he'd had on earlier, although his shirt had been removed and a thick pad of gauze showing a bit of red was taped to his right shoulder. Reaching down, Ashe patted the large pocket on the side of his pants. The photograph was still there. Now he had to make careful plans, and having a bullet wound in his shoulder certainly limited what he might be able to do. Pulling the photograph out, although it shot shards of pain through his shoulder to do it, Ashe placed it in the drawer of his bedside table and shut it as quietly as he could.

  "Here, baby," Adele handed two ibuprofen to Ashe and helped him sit up so he could take them with the glass of water his mother held for him. Ashe discovered how shaky he was when he sat up.

  "What time is it?" Ashe whispered, once he was settled back in the bed and the awful pain of sitting up had subsided.

  "It's after two in the morning," his mother replied.

  "Mom, I don't think Dad and the others are going to find anything," Ashe sighed. Already his eyes wanted to close again. Sleep might take away the pain if the ibuprofen didn't.