One True Mate 3: Shifter's Echo

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One True Mate 3: Shifter's Echo Page 11

by Lisa Ladew


  Beckett’s tone was icy. “Look, I know there’s nobody available to take your report right now. You’re just going to have to wait or come back later. Go through the front door and wait in the lobby like everybody else. Come back here again, it will be in handcuffs.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed and he poked a finger in Beckett’s chest. “You’re a cop. Do your fucking job. Shay Carmi, she’s my girlfriend. She’s been missing for two weeks now.”

  Beckett’s eyes went colder than his tone. “Touch me again and I still won’t take your report, but you’ll be spending a cold night on a cement floor.”

  Crew hurried over to keep Beckett from popping the guy. He leaned over to whisper to Beckett. “Carmi.”

  Beckett whipped his way. “There you are.” He turned back to the man. “Get the hell out of here before I do something you’ll regret.”

  Crew shook his head and held up a finger to the man. “Just wait a second.” He pulled Beckett around the corner and spoke softly to Beckett. “Carmi is Ella’s last name. Shay is her sister. The one who Khain took to the Pravus. The one in the hospital now.”

  Anger leaked out of Beckett’s countenance. “Ah fuck,” he said softly. “Just what we need today. Do that shit you do and tell Wade. He’s around somewhere, waiting for you to show up.”

  Crew quirked an eyebrow but sought out Wade with his mind. We need you in the duty room. Someone reporting Ella’s sister missing.

  Wade’s voice came back at once. Not what we need today. Put him in a room. I’ll call Trevor in.

  After they did as Wade had asked, Beckett shook his head and pulled Crew to his desk. “Good thing you’re finally here. We need everyone on this, especially you. Khain’s been popping over here all day long. We think he’s trying to find one true mates. He only stays for a moment, so by the time we scramble anyone to the area, there’s no trace of him. Plus, there’s been a kidnapping. Four-year-old girl. We hope it’s not related, but in case it is, the KSRT are actively investigating it. We’ve pulled everyone in from duty out at Trevor’s place except the bearen, Graeme, and Trevor. We were supposed to have the induction ceremony today but it’s been postponed, indefinitely.”

  “What ceremony?”

  “Graeme, Trent, and Troy are all being sworn into the KSRT.”

  Pills forgotten, Crew nodded. “About time. What am I supposed to be doing?”

  Beckett pulled out a stack of papers. “Here’s what we’ve got.” The first paper showed a sketch of a pretty young female. “Possible one true mate. Possible name is Leilani. Other than that, we know nothing about who she is or where she lives. She might be in the hospital. Mac and Bruin are looking for her.”

  “Bruin the bear?”

  “Yeah, his chief has loaned him to us. Seems happy to be rid of him. He can stand to be around Mac, so Wade paired them up.” Beckett turned that paper over. The next was a picture of a compact, mousy looking male with a large question mark over his head. “This is Boe, the escaped foxen from the Pravus. Wade thinks there’s a one true mate associated with him somehow, but we have no picture, so we’re looking for him. Canyon and Timber are running the network for him while Harlan and Jaggar are out looking for him.”

  Beckett turned over that paper and Crew’s heart and breath stopped. Staring at him was an unsmiling picture of Dahlia, apparently blown up from some sort of work badge. Waves of heat covered his body while his stomach cramped and his mind revolted.

  “Dahlia Page. Graeme recognized her as a possible one true mate two weeks ago when she recovered the animals from the forest after the spider incident, working as an ASPCA officer…”

  Crew felt his blood pressure drop and his brain go fuzzy. He didn’t fight it, he encouraged it. His body tipped to his left and he let himself go completely, until everything was dark.

  *

  Crew opened his eyes in his dream world, knowing exactly what he was going to see. His arms and bed were empty. Dahlia was not there. He jumped to his feet. “Dahlia, Dahlia!” He ripped open the door to the rest of the house as Mac came running. “Dahlia, where is she?”

  Mac shook his head, concern lining his face. “That door hasn’t opened.”

  Crew felt his consciousness waver. Mac’s brows drew down over his eyes. “Spook, I can see through you.”

  Crew tried to speak but his vocal cords didn’t want to work. He put out a hand for Mac, but could see the floor through it. The very thoughts in his head went hazy and he felt a strange pulling/drawing sensation.

  *

  “Crew!” Beckett said, shaking him by the shoulders.

  Crew shook his head. He was on the floor… and dripping wet, with ice cubes slipping off of him, plunking into puddles on the floor. He pushed at Beckett. “Why am I wet?”

  “Oh, shit, sorry, dude. When you fainted, I didn’t know what else to do. You hit the floor and then your body faded. I thought you were going to disappear completely so I poured my soda on you.”

  “I didn’t faint,” Crew growled, knowing he had.

  “Ok…” Beckett drawled, moving back a bit. “Were you testing the floor for hardness with your face?”

  Crew rubbed a hand over his mouth and tried to speak coherently. “Dahlia. I met her last night in my dream world.” He scrambled up to his knees and grabbed Beckett by the shirt. “Beck, I─she’s my one true mate. And I fell for her already. I might love her.”

  Beckett stared into Crew’s eyes, his expression changing first to shock, then to pity. “Dude.”

  Crew let go of him. “Do you know where to look for her?”

  Beckett shook his head slowly, his eyes wide. “Graeme didn’t tell anyone about her until a few days later because he was over in Scotland, but when we finally went to the ASPCA, it turns out she had quit that night. Dropped off the animals and left. No one has seen her since. She doesn’t answer her phone and the address they had for her is occupied by someone who’s never heard of her. No records under that name and all possible relatives in the city say they don’t know her, except for one couple who is overseas. We’ve left several messages for them and their neighbors say they used to have someone who lived with them who matched Dahlia’s description, but no one has seen her there in years.”

  Wade entered the duty room and both wolven scrambled to their feet. “What’s going on here?”

  Crew didn’t know what to say or do. He stood quietly, trying to think of his next move, giving his heart time to stitch itself back together so he could function. Beckett stepped in for him, explaining the situation. When Wade’s face filled with pity, too, Crew felt like running. He stood his ground.

  “We’ll find her,” Beckett promised.

  “We’ll pull everyone off of everything else. Dahlia is our priority,” Wade said.

  “Woodridge,” Crew tried to say, but his voice was too soft.

  “What?”

  “Her last name is Woodridge. Maybe she changed it, I don’t know, but look for Dahlia Woodridge.” Crew wondered if he were helping her or hurting her by telling them that. “I want to help look for her.”

  Wade stepped forward and touched Crew on the shoulder. “That’s not a good idea. You know why.”

  Crew rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t just stay here.”

  Wade nodded. “You’re right. Here’s what you’re going to do. A little girl disappeared today. Paisley White. Her mother is under sedation at the hospital and we need someone from the KSRT to go talk to her great-grandmother, Abigail White. Beckett has the address. You take Trent and Troy with you, and call me immediately if there’s any sign of your one true mate.”

  Crew squeezed his eyes shut. “You gotta find her.”

  “We will, I swear it,” both males said at the same time.

  But Crew knew they’d already failed. Something he’d done, or said, or didn’t do had already sealed Dahlia’s fate.

  Chapter 16

  Dahlia pushed herself up into a seated position on her floor and grabbed for Angel. “Angel
, you’re in on it. Oh my God, what are you?”

  The bobkitten yowled in her arms and she realized she was squeezing him. She loosened her hold. No booming voice worked through her consciousness. Desperation caught hold of her. “Angel, how will I meet Crew again if I never go back to Orion’s Belt?”

  Nothing. The kitten did his version of purring and tried to snuggle into Dahlia’s arms. She put him down and stared at him as he nudged her with his furry face, her mind racing.

  Her phone rang. She got up to grab it, feeling dazed. More messages from work. She hadn’t listened to any of them over the last two weeks, not wanting to hear what her old boss had to say. But now she pressed the button, wanting some sort of normalcy, something to bring her back to reality.

  The first few messages were normal. Dahlia, are you ok, Dahlia, what happened, Dahlia are you coming in today, Dahlia this isn’t like you. No mention of Angel though. Hopefully no one at the office even realized she had him. She’d put him in her car before she’d carried the other animals in, so the only record of him even existing would have been from Heather or that guy she had been with. Dahlia didn’t know if she could get in trouble for what she had done, but she thought the answer was probably yes.

  The tone of the eighth message was different. Dahlia, the police are looking for you, they say you don’t live at the address you gave us. Dahlia stared at the phone, then pressed delete all. She didn’t want to hear one more message.

  She paced around her apartment, trying to think of what to do next, although when she finally decided, she realized she had known all along. Nothing for now. Go to sleep and see what happened. Would she go anywhere? Would she somehow see Crew or talk to Angel again?

  She took a deep breath. “Ok,” she said to no one, not even Angel. She loved the furry little guy but was miffed that he wouldn’t talk to her, or couldn’t talk to her. Maybe she could direct him in her dreams.

  “Oh!” she said to no one. She remembered the scene of the semi-truck playing over, scaring her, and remembered Angel telling her she had caused it. She’d seen things like that before, but never attributed it to herself. Now she had to know for sure.

  She looked around. Where was a good place to attempt an experiment? Finally she entered her bedroom and sat cross-legged on the middle of the bed, her back against the headboard.

  She closed her eyes, feeling silly. What had Angel said? Your emotions may spark the chimera, but your intellect controls it.

  Emotions. Think of an emotion. Happiness. Joy. She opened her eyes. Nothing. She laughed at herself, then closed her eyes again. She probably had to feel the emotion, but how? If she wanted to feel happiness, what would cause it? She slouched against the wall and imagined Crew’s intense, handsome face in her mind. He smiled at her and her soul lit up. She placed him a few feet away so she could see his body, then made him naked. Whoa. Good thing nobody could see her thoughts. Her body responded immediately, her breasts growing heavy and her spine tingling, a wicked smile fixed on her face.

  This isn’t joy, it’s lust. Clothes back on. Now what? Maybe we do something fun together. Go on vacation? A sandy beach and a moving blue ocean slid around Crew, his work attire replaced by board shorts and bare feet. He beckoned to her. She took his hand and they ran into the waves together, laughing. She put everything she had into it, coloring each aspect of the scene as if it were real life, holding up her hand to shade the glare of the sun from her eyes. She smelled the salt of the ocean and heard the caw of a seagull.

  Angel chattered from in the living room and Dahlia opened her eyes as the image in her mind ripped apart. Her mouth dropped open as she saw that her room was drenched in sunshine. As she watched, a white bird flew from nowhere to swoop over Angel’s head into the living room. Angel crouched and made a twisting leap for it, but couldn’t reach that high.

  The sunshine faded.

  Dahlia gaped at the light, until it was completely gone, her room her own once again. She shook her head. Creepy? Or awesome? She couldn’t decide.

  She slammed her eyes shut, wanting to see exactly how real the chimera was. Another scene came to her. Jungle. Plants everywhere. Ferns. Heavy, hot air. Struggle to breathe it in. Mud that never quite dries underfoot. The incessant call of bugs on all sides. Dahlia peeked with one eye. Her room was bare.

  She frowned. Oh, yeah, emotion. What exactly would she feel in the jungle scene she had created? She crossed her hands over her chest and tried to imagine how she would end up there. What if she’d been born in the jungle, one of those tribes untouched by Western civilization? She’d be a hunter with a spear, stalking an animal who would kill her if she didn’t kill it first. She needed it for food… or for medicine for her younger sister who lay dying of─of something… and the lion’s blood, once treated, would provide a cure.

  Dahlia ignored the absurdity of her creation. In her imagination, anything could work.

  She crouched in the bed, her right hand clenched on air, her left hand moving plants out of the way in front of her. A wary thrill coursed through her, along with her concern for the sister, and measured apprehension at the danger she was undertaking. Her closed eyes looked down at nothing, but saw a lion track. A big one sunk deep into the mud. The thick, heady scent of rotting vegetation forced its way into her nostrils.

  She forgot to check the real world until Angel yowled, then she opened her eyes slowly. All around her, jungle leaves, vines, and foliage closed in. She looked up. Instead of her ceiling, treetops soared overhead. Dahlia scrambled to her feet and pushed backwards through the jungle, feeling the leaves scrape at her arms. “Angel?”

  A massive roar split the room, making her jump and utter a scream that she quickly cut off. Plants in front of her quaked, the leaves shaking, making her throw her arms up in a defensive gesture, but it was only Angel, streaking into her arms and quaking there in fear.

  White light! Nothingness! She took several gulping deep breaths and squeezed her eyes shut to imagine blankness and the absence of fear.

  Dahlia opened her eyes and looked around.

  Her room was back, the jungle gone, but still the small, white-striped kitty in her arms trembled and hid its face in her chest.

  Chapter 17

  Crew downshifted the truck and cruised to a stop at the light, his mind far away. Trent sat next to him and Troy behind. Crew didn’t mind working with the two non-shifting wolves, because both of them talked a lot less than anyone else on the KSRT, and when they did talk, they spoke in ruhi, which Crew preferred. Plus, they were vicious and strong, always in wolf form, and both had been in the Pravus to fight Khain on his home turf, two of only four wolven who had ever done so. If Khain showed up, neither would hesitate to attack with intent to kill.

  Trent interrupted his thoughts. Tell me about traveling.

  What?

  Troy perked up from the back seat and put his head over the divider, looking at each of them in turn.

  Traveling, isn’t that what it’s called when you live a second life in your dreams?

  Crew frowned. No one had asked him about it in twenty years, and now Beckett and Trent in two days? I guess that’s what it’s called. Mostly nobody calls it anything because no one does it but me, that I know of.

  You talked to the dragon yet? He says eight to ten percent of all humans and shiften are travelers, but half of them don’t realize it and the rest don’t talk about it.

  The light changed and Crew drove on, mystified.

  Troy sneezed, his version of a scoff, then faced Trent. When did you talk to him? And why didn’t you tell me?

  I don’t tell you everything.

  Maybe you should.

  Crew held up a hand to interrupt them. Wait, you said humans are travelers, too? Why? What is the point of it?

  You really have to talk to Graeme. It’s something about keeping continuity between worlds and spreading ideas. He says traveling is not his expertise, but I think that male has forgotten more shiften and dragen lore than the rest of
us will ever know, and the dragen were great travelers, even the ones who didn’t do it in their dreams. It’s a dragen skill, being able to force their way between worlds.

  Crew fell silent, thinking. He wasn’t a natural traveler, he knew that much, he’d only started doing it after his showdown with Khain so many years ago, but what if Dahlia was? Would that explain how he met her in his dream world? But had she disappeared from there while she slept? He’d been brushing her hair back from her face and only would let himself fall asleep after he was certain she already had. Had he been wrong about when she’d fallen asleep? Or did she not disappear?

  Trent cleared his throat. So is it like a realistic dream? Or do you fall asleep and wake up in a completely different kind of existence and you know that you couldn’t possibly be dreaming?

  Crew looked at him questioningly. Anyone who travels the way I do, knows it. Injuries you get in one world transfer to the next if you don’t heal them. Tattoos, too. Haircuts, that kind of stuff. They don’t always look exactly like they did in the other world, but there’s always some sort of transference. At least for me.

  Troy chuffed. Why are you asking, Trent? Does this have anything to do with the big slice on your foot that you can’t explain?

  Trent lifted his foot and looked at it. Crew could see a nasty gouge there that had taken most of the pad of his big toe. Trent set his foot down and faced forward. Just curious.

  Troy stood up in the back seat and his voice grew soft in both their heads. And with all those wolf documentaries you watch? You looking for someone or something, Trent? I’m your brother, you can tell me.

  There’s nothing to tell, Trent said, his tone contemplative.

  Crew wondered. Trent wasn’t one to waste words, one reason why Crew liked him. He hooked a left turn and parked in front of their destination, looking out the window at the red and white door and the sign over it reading You Need It.

 

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