Autumn Rising

by Marissa Farrar

  “Why would you think he isn’t?”

  “Because Thorne only alluded to Tala being the traitor in our midst,” said Chogan. “What if it was actually Peter?”

  “Are you forgetting what Tala did to Autumn?”

  “No, of course not. I just can’t help feeling a little low on trust at the moment.”

  Blake scowled. “You and me both.”

  Chogan remembered the kiss he’d shared with Autumn. He had to hold his hands at his side to stop himself lifting his hand and touching his lips, bringing back the feeling of her mouth on his. Perhaps a little of him did feel guilt at kissing Blake’s girl, but then he remembered what Autumn had told him about Blake telling her it wouldn’t work out between them, and the guilt melted away like ice on a hot day.

  “Anyway,” Blake continued. “I can’t believe for a moment that Peter would betray us. He’s smart. He must have figured out another way of getting past the soldiers.”

  Rhys spoke up. “Well I didn’t see any areas that weren’t unguarded, so I hope you guys have got a plan about how we’re going to get out of this mess.”

  “We need more than a plan,” said Blake. “We need a God-damned miracle.”

  “We could all shift,” Rhys suggested. “Attack different parts of the ring of soldiers and hope the confusion buys us some time.”

  “There aren’t enough of us,” said Blake. “We’d all need to attack the same spot to have any chance of creating enough confusion for a counter attack to not be so likely. But even then, all those men are armed, and would see us coming. Even if a few of us did get through, there are choppers that would hunt us down. We’d barely have more than a minute’s head start. If we even had that. And that’s all without taking into account that some of us are hurt.”

  “And what about Tala?” Chogan said. “We couldn’t fight and take care of her as well. We’d have to leave her here.”

  Blake’s jaw tightened. “I’m not abandoning my sister.”

  “Even after what she did to Autumn?”

  “I’m not abandoning my sister,” he insisted. “I did that once before, I don’t intend on doing it again.”

  “You’re our strongest fighter,” said Chogan. “Without you, we don’t stand a chance.”

  “So we just sit around here like prisoners?” Rhys spat. “Screw that!” He punched out at the air.

  Chogan glanced to Blake. If they were going to get through this, they couldn’t afford to have a hot head messing things up. Kind of ironic, he thought, that someone could be more hot headed than either him or Blake.

  At least he and his cousin could agree on one thing. They’d both need to watch Rhys. Yes, perhaps they were all in the same boat now, but Chogan still hadn’t forgotten that the big tiger-shifter had gone up against him with Tala. He knew his cousin could be persuasive when she needed to be, but in his eyes that already made Rhys a traitor.

  Chapter Four

  AUTUMN OPENED HER eyes, blinking up at bright strips of fluorescent lighting and a white painted ceiling. At some point during her journey, though she couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment, she’d either fallen asleep, or the drugs had finally taken their toll and she’d passed out.

  She tried to sit up, but found herself unable to move. Was she still paralyzed? Had the drugs not worn off properly yet? But no, she could wiggle her fingers and arch her back an inch or two. She tried to turn her head, but was unable to. Suddenly, she became aware of the band strapped across her forehead, and sensed, rather than saw, similar bands across her wrists and ankles. Panic fired through her, jolting her heart rate up to slam against her rib cage. Her breathing became sharp and shallow, coming from her body in frantic gasps, as she tugged at her bonds. But there was no way she was getting out of this one. She was strapped down to something, a table of some kind, she assumed. A slab of something smooth and cold beneath her body. The room smelled of chemicals, the stringent tang of disinfectant combined with the bright light causing her eyes to water.

  As her vision adjusted to the light, she caught sight of a distorted reflection of herself in the metal casing of the fluorescent light above her. The sight shocked her. Her skin was pale, and she looked too thin after not eating properly lately. Her nostrils were dark with encrusted blood, and purple and green bruises blackened her eyes. There appeared to be another stainless steel surface which she was strapped down upon, like a surgical table.

  A fresh shot of terror surged through her. Surgical table! What did that mean? Surely they weren’t going to perform some kind of surgery on her? Autumn forced herself to clamp down on her fear. She needed to keep control of herself if she was going to make it out of this.

  She took a breath and opened her mouth, hoping her voice would come out stronger than she felt, and not betray her with a tremble. “Hey, Thorne! I’m awake now, or are you too scared to be in the same room with me if I’m conscious?” The words brought back the memory of his earlier threat, and she suppressed a shiver threatening to wrack through her. She listened intently for a response, her ears straining for any sound, yet none came. Even so, she felt sure she was being watched, that there were eyes on her. They wouldn’t bring her here and abandon her completely. Tala had proven that her blood did what everyone had told her, what her own experiments had shown, so now Autumn had no doubts. She was vital to whatever plans Calvin Thorne was hatching. Was he continuing Dumas’ good work and planning to create some kind of shifter army? Or did he have something even more heinous on his mind?

  “Come on, boys!” she shouted again, pulling at her bonds. “You must think I’m one hell of a threat to need to drug me and tie me down. What are you frightened of—that I’ll turn you into one of them?”

  Was that what they were frightened of? Did they see her like some kind of master vampire creature, with the ability to turn regular humans into freaks at will?

  She heard the swoosh of a door opening, followed by heels going clack, clack, clack against the hard floor. The person walked slowly, and the sound of their heels against the floor grew louder as they approached—a woman, she assumed from the shoes. A strong waft of perfume surrounded her, something old fashioned and expensive, making Autumn’s currently sensitive stomach turn.

  A face blocked the light above her, silhouetted at first, but growing clearer as her eyes adjusted. Yes, a woman, older than her, she’d guess around early forties. Short, spiky blonde hair. Pretty, in an angular way. High cheekbones, a thin, sharp nose, almost cat-shaped blue eyes, a mouth that was just a little too wide, but which smiled at her now.

  “Doctor Autumn Anderson, I’m so sorry we’ve had to meet on these terms. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  She tried to sit up again, but her efforts were futile. “Well I’ve heard nothing about you! Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m Calvin Thorne’s superior. I was also Maxim Dumas’ superior, and I’m sorry about how that situation turned out.”

  “I’m not!”

  She chuckled. “No, I didn’t expect you to be.”

  “Are you going to let me up? I assume we’re in some kind of secure facility. Don’t you think you’ve gone a little over the top with the bondage?”

  “You’ve proven yourself to be a slippery creature in the past.”

  “Yeah, well ... I had help.”

  The woman chuckled again. “And you won’t be getting such help again. Your friends are well contained.”

  “You haven’t answered either of my questions,” Autumn said, as she realized it was true. What was this woman, some kind of politician? It wouldn’t surprise her, considering how apt she was at answering a question without really answering it.

  “And what would they be?”

  “Who are you, and what are you going to do with me?”

  “Since I guess you can’t do anything with the information, I might as well tell you. My name is Vivian Winters, and I am the head of the paranormal branch of the Department of Defense.”

  Autumn couldn’t help herself, e
ven in her position. She scoffed, “What? There’s no such thing!”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Look around you—” She barked one short, sharp laugh. “Oh wait, you can’t. Anyway, you’re currently in our headquarters which is situated in a bunker deep underground miles from anywhere.”

  “Okay, so that’s who you are and where I am, now tell me what you plan to do with me.”

  “Nothing for the moment. I have scientists working on creating a copy of your blood. We took a sample while you were unconscious, but I’m sure we’ll be needing many more before the copy is perfected.”

  “You realize the thing that got me in this whole mess in the first place is the fact I’m one of the best in the business. Dumas brought me in to work on the project for a reason. Numerous people before me couldn’t figure out what created shifters, so what makes you think you’ll be able to do so now?”

  “Because previously we didn’t have your blood. We were trying to create something from an unknown quality.”

  Autumn tried to see a way out of her situation. An idea occurred to her, and she snatched upon the opportunity. “So let me help,” she said quickly. “I’m more use to you in a lab than lying here helpless on a table. My skills in genetic splicing are some of the best around. You must realize that or I would never have been brought in on the project.”

  “Really? Do you still think that’s the only reason Dumas brought you on board?”

  She struggled with her bonds. “I can’t talk to you like this! At least let me sit up so we can talk like rational adults, and professional women at that!”

  The woman, Vivian, continued to pace around the table, her sharp heels clacking on the floor in a slow, deliberate rhythm, like water dripping from a tap. “We’ve known about shifters for years, and have tried to contain them, though picking them out from regular humans has proven to be somewhat tricky. Of course, back then we immediately eliminated any we found out about. Only years later did we consider the possibility that shifters might actually be able to do something to help this country rather than destroy it.”

  “Shifters never did anything to harm us! They lived peacefully until you started to stir things up!”

  “May I remind you that you were part of the team doing the stirring, Doctor Anderson?”

  “I didn’t know what I was getting involved with.”

  “Yes, you did. Perhaps not all the details, but you knew it was something different, something abnormal. You didn’t give a thought to the people behind the samples, you only cared about the samples and what they might mean.”

  “That’s not true.” Her voice came out as a whisper, and even she was forced to doubt her sincerity. It was true. She had been caught up in the chase, in the puzzle to find the answer. She remembered how desperately she’d wanted to see where the samples she was working on had come from. She’d not given any thought to the people whose samples she was studying, who they were, what lives they lived, what people they had who loved them, if they had any at all. All she’d wanted was to see them, as experiments, as freaks for her to study. She’d been just as bad as everyone else involved, even if she’d not fully known the truth.

  She yanked her arms again. “Come on. Let me up!”

  Vivian folded her arms across her narrow chest and exhaled through her nose. Her lips twisted as she seemed to consider Autumn’s pleas. “If I release the straps, you will behave yourself, is that understood? I have men standing outside the door who have been instructed to render you unconscious again at the first sign of trouble.”

  Her heart lifted in hope. “I won’t cause any trouble, I promise.”

  “Okay, fine. I guess I’ll have to trust you to behave yourself at some point.”

  The older woman moved to stand above Autumn’s head. Her fingers fiddled with something on the strap across her forehead, a clasp of some kind, Autumn assumed. Within a few seconds, the pressure of the strap across her forehead released and she was able to move her head.

  “Oh, thank God,” she groaned, just thankful to be able to release the kinks in her neck. She was finally able to get a look around the room. The place was sparse, with a door that she assumed led to a bathroom, and another small sink in the corner. There was nothing in the room that wasn’t bolted to the floor. Not so much as a chair for her to pick up and use as a weapon. The door Vivian had entered through was made of glass, and she could see the shapes of two men standing outside of it. The wall opposite her was mirrored, but she figured people would be sitting behind the glass.

  “You try anything and you’ll find yourself strapped back down quicker than you can blink,” Vivian warned as she worked on the strap securing Autumn’s right hand. The strap fell open, and Autumn lifted her hand, twisting her wrist in circles to try to bring some feeling back to the limb.

  Vivian released the remaining straps, and with a groan, Autumn pushed herself to sitting. Her head swam momentarily, a side-effect of both the drugs and having been lying down for so long, but quickly cleared.

  “Thank you,” she said, though she spoke through gritted teeth. She hated thanking this woman for anything.

  She gave Autumn a cold smile. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

  “I’m not your enemy, Ms. Winters,” she said, swinging her legs around so she was sitting on the edge of the table. She rubbed at the red marks on her wrists that the straps had left. “Up until this point, no one has actually bothered asking me what I want. I’ve been hauled around by a bunch of meathead guys, most of whom were armed, and I’ve simply gone along with what they wanted to stop myself from getting killed.”

  “I hear you’ve been rather familiar with these meatheads, as you so profoundly describe them.”

  “I made them think I was on their side. What else was I supposed to do?” Autumn forced her gaze, direct at Vivian Winters. “Ms. Winters, you and I are both intelligent, driven women in a male dominated world. Don’t you think it would be better to have me on your side?

  “Are you suggesting we should become friends?” The mocking was clear in her tone.

  Autumn tried to say what she thought this sharp-edged woman would want to hear. “Not at all. Business is no place for friendship. What I am saying is that I could be more use to you as a consultant, than as a useless piece of meat trapped in this room. I will let you take my blood. I will even work with you to achieve the changes you wish to create. But unless you at least allow me the decency of some kind of freedom, I will fight you on all counts.”

  Vivian’s perfectly plucked eyebrows lifted, a snide smile tugging at her mouth. “You can’t actually think I’d allow you to wander around this facility unguarded?”

  “Of course not. I can stay in this room for the majority of the time, if that’s what you wish, but I would like to see your labs and get an idea of what it is I am so important to achieving.”

  “Sounds like you’re pushing your luck to me.”

  “You could put a guard on me at all times, even keep my hands tied, though that would limit the sort of practical help I could be in the lab.”

  She could see the possibilities working their way across Vivian Winters’ face. The hesitation. She was actually considering Autumn’s idea.

  “There’s a saying, Ms. Winters, about how you should keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. I’m not saying I am your enemy, but I do think having me involved in your project will only benefit you in the long term.”

  “I’ve heard enough of this nonsense.” The other woman spun on her heels, clacking across the floor as she walked away. She paused at the door and glanced back over her shoulder. “Now keep your mouth shut before I get someone to tape it shut.”

  With that, she swung out of the glass door, it closing behind her with the now familiar swoosh of the airlock.

  Autumn exhaled and kicked out at the floor in frustration. “Shit.”

  She hadn’t thought her plan had much chance of working, yet there had been one moment where Vivian Winters seemed to be consid
ering her suggestion. She didn’t know what it was she’d be able to do for herself if she was able to get into any other parts of the building. She’d still be surrounded by government officials, and she assumed this place was locked down tight as a drum. Still, just getting out of this room would have given her options. There might have been an opportunity to get to a phone, though she didn’t know who she’d be able to call for help even if she did. Her father would be of little use, though she would want to reassure him that she was still alive. As far as she was aware, Mia, Blake and Chogan were all imprisoned at the cabin, and even if she could call the police, she had no way of explaining where she was. They probably wouldn’t even be interested. One word from higher in the political hierarchy and they’d soon lose interest in her.

  At least she was no longer bound, though the room they were keeping her in was hardly built for comfort. With nothing else to do, she pulled herself back up on the metal bed and lay flat on her back, her knees bent, feet planted on the steel surface. She stared up at the light above, but the irrational thought that she was a corpse about to be dissected leapt into her mind. Panic overwhelmed her, her heart beating hard, and she pulled herself back up to sitting, and jumped down, stepping away from the surgical table. She closed her eyes, trying to regain control of herself. Had the thought been an irrational fear, or a prediction of her future?

  The door swung open with a hydraulic swoosh, making her jump. She took a couple of staggered steps away, her legs weak. Though she was trying to be mentally strong, she struggled to fight against what her body had been put through over the last twenty-four hours.

  Calvin Thorne walked in carrying a tray. He scowled at her, making the five lines of red scars down the one side of his face crinkle. He walked over to the table she’d just fled from and slammed the tray down, a metallic clang cutting through the room.

  “Food,” he said, his voice gruff.

  She couldn’t help herself. “Are you my waiter now?”

  “Don’t push it, sweetheart.”