Missing

by KH LeMoyne

  Everyone turned at her comment, even Matthew. She swallowed her exasperation. Really? A little help in the confidence department, partner. “Shanae counted on Matthew finding their son.” She tipped her head pointedly at Matthew. “The scope you developed was placed where you had to find it. In fact, she’s the only other person who knows it exists. How else would we locate where she’d hidden Trevor without your tools?”

  He shook his head, a deep furrow of confusion still between his brows.

  “I believe she was counting on you to find him while she led her attackers away from your son.” She glanced at Trim. “For what it’s worth, I think she was counting on you, Wharton, and Deacon to be here too. Because she needs all of our help.”

  Trim moved farther away, fists on her hips. Matthew turned his shoulder to block her view of Trevor. It didn’t stop Trim’s fuming. “That’s absurd. You have no idea what Shanae thought. You’ve never even met her. Why didn’t she tell him her problems? No, instead, she ran from her life to come home to us. And you.” She waved a hand taking in Lena’s body. “You’d be dead if we hadn’t shown up. Then those mutants would have—”

  Deacon’s growl rumbled, a loud ominous thunder permeating the air around them. Trim inhaled and turned an odd shade of scarlet. He stepped into the open space as she spun away.

  Lena ignored Trim’s temper tantrum and looked Matthew straight in the eye, slowly crouching in front of him.

  Not her best idea. Her head whirled, and a wash of white momentarily blanked her vision.

  Matthew and Wharton both reached for her, but Deacon’s arm around her waist lowered her to her knees. Regaining her balance, she lingered there a second. His warm touch swept back the pain. She wanted to hold on longer, but he removed his arm, and she felt disconnected with reality.

  Blowing out a breath at her embarrassment, she murmured thanks over her shoulder and then continued. “I don’t know why she didn’t tell you, but I suspect she had a good reason. One hinging on Trevor’s well-being—or yours. None of that matters right now. You need to come to terms with Shanae’s intelligence and count on it. How would she leverage what the two of you share, your habits, your conversations, anything we can use to help her? Because my gut tells me she’s still counting on you.”

  She reached her good hand toward Trevor, holding it palm up for him to sniff. Somehow it was far easier to deal with a wolf pup than a child. His soft fur and immature muzzle made him indistinguishable from a canine puppy. Cute and furry—dogs she could handle. Children, well, they were a mystery.

  He nudged her and gave her a little lick. Acceptance received, she rubbed around his ears and scratched beneath his chin. He remained quiet, lazily eyeing Wharton, now sprawled closer to Matthew.

  The odd sensation of comfort wafted over Lena again. With a blink, she tried to wipe the lethargy from her mind and lowered her voice. “You didn’t give up before, Matthew. Don’t start now.”

  Matthew dipped his head and hugged Trevor tighter. His nod was brief, but he held her gaze. It wasn’t the solid assurance she’d wanted from him, but she’d gotten through.

  Deacon crouched on one knee beside Lena and eyed Trevor. No wonder he kept smelling wolf cub.

  But wolf form in a shifter child was unheard of. For practical reasons, nature had seen fit to withhold shifting until adolescence. He could only imagine the pain Trevor had endured. He met Matthew’s challenging stare. Hostility and distrust lingered there. Deacon didn’t blame him after Trim’s ill-timed advance. Her instincts were correct. A shame her diplomacy sucked.

  “I can help your son return to his normal form.”

  “He’s normal now,” Matthew replied softly, vibrating with barely restrained anger.

  Touché. Human one. Alpha zero. Deacon exhaled. “He is a perfect child, but shifters don’t transform until they reach puberty. No matter what their breed.” He held up his palm as fury and another retort gathered in Matthew’s expression. “He’s been administered something to induce this early response.”

  Matthew’s jaw dropped open. “You’re saying someone drugged him? Who would do such a thing?”

  “That, I will find out. I promise. Though I believe his condition is why Shanae was bringing him home. To me.”

  The frown returned. “Why you?”

  “I’m not just family. I have the ability to control the shifts of those in the clan, of all the packs that are under my protection.” Such a small part of the truth, but downplaying his role seemed prudent. Too much had happened in the last few hours for these humans. Too many consequences depended on sustaining a calm, open exchange. At least for now. “I only need to hold him for a few minutes. He won’t feel any pain. I promise to return him to you.”

  Deacon waited, unmoving beside Lena. The man could have as much time as he wanted to deliberate. Unlike Trim’s biased assessment, he considered Matthew Philmont an enigma among the humans he’d met. His startling logic in the face of his son’s wolf form and his continued protection of Lena gained him Deacon’s approval.

  “What will keep him from suddenly changing again?” Lena asked.

  “Energy. Mine and that of the other shifters. We’ll basically act as a buffer to keep the enzymes that provoke the shift from releasing into his bloodstream. As a group, we provide stability, an anchor to hold him in a safe form.”

  “For how long?” Listening intently, Matthew had picked up on the part Deacon wanted to avoid. There was no way around the truth. Granted, he could lie, but he’d gain little now if he did, and trust later would be impossible if Shanae chose to mate with Matthew.

  “When he reaches puberty, I can release the hold. Nature will take its course. His mother, you—and others can help him acclimate to shifting like our other children.”

  “But he needs to stay close enough to you to receive this—energy barrier?”

  Serious bitterness lay beneath those words, but Deacon could hardly blame the man. He wouldn’t appreciate his child’s well-being placed in the hands of another man. Deacon held his gaze. “For now. Until we can reverse what’s been done.”

  Matthew looked away, clearly not pleased.

  Prodding wasn’t Deacon’s style, but the longer they delayed, the more likely it was that Trevor would shift again without the help and natural anesthesia Deacon could provide. “The stress he’s encountering now to his bones and muscles is difficult. Painful, I suspect.”

  Lena leaned closer and angled her head toward Deacon. “You can promise this will stop his shifting until he’s ready?”

  “I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t within my power to deliver.” Her scrutiny belied her outright trust, but after a second, she turned back to Matthew, lips pursed, and they both waited.

  After a deep breath and his own round of scrutiny, Matthew eased Trevor from him. “If Shanae trusts you, then I’ll follow her lead. Let’s do this.”

  Deacon gathered the pup into his hands. Trevor squirmed as Deacon lifted him high over his head. “Don’t fear me, son. Be at ease and settle down.”

  Trevor immediately hung limp, a tiny swish to his tail. He acquiesced quietly as Deacon pulled him back toward his face and sniffed first along his head and then down to his belly. Definitely a bitter underlying taint. Nothing compared to the stench of the feral creatures they’d battled, but definitely a man-made chemical.

  “Don’t worry, Trevor Philmont. You will grow to be a brave man and possess a fine wolf, but for now, let your beast rest.” He pressed the pup to his chest and stroked the length of soft fur. “Your wolf has safeguarded you, but he needs to hibernate until you are both ready.”

  Another stroke, and Deacon locked gazes with Trevor. Energy vibrated through Deacon’s feet, nature’s core feeding him mana to disperse across the infinite fetch between his soul and the boy’s. Feathering energy, he released his power, ripples driving alpha-will farther into Trevor’s flesh. With each oscillation, the child’s wolf bowed and retracted. Fingers clung to Deacon’s hands, tiny agains
t his own large palms. Fur disappeared in favor of fleshy cheeks and a mop of brown hair. Trevor’s eyes remained the same—eyes a mirror of his father’s with a smile that matched his mother’s.

  Jeans, shirt, jacket, and Velcro tennis shoes finished the shift as the wolf inside the boy curled back to dormant sleep.

  Trevor’s eyes widened with a tremulous smile. “It didn’t hurt.”

  “You won’t hurt again. I promise. Now I think you should rest. Like your wolf, you need to be ready for a fast run through the forest tomorrow.”

  Trevor glanced toward his father. “To get Mom.”

  Deacon didn’t respond but handed the boy, whose eyes were closing, back to his father. At the concerned appraisal the father gave his son, Deacon added. “He’s only asleep. I felt encouraging rest would be better than having him tossing and turning tonight.”

  “Thank you. Umm—the clothes?” Matthew patted over Trevor’s shirt and jacket. “He didn’t have clothes before, and the others—”

  “Those feral beasts were not part of my family.” Deacon stretched his neck and nodded for Wharton to take first watch. He picked up Lena’s sleeping bag and wrapped it around her shoulders then sat beside her in front of the fire. “Sharing in this family has its advantages, Matthew. Clothes are only the beginning.”

  Lying down, he closed his eyes and hoped everyone would take the hint.

  11

  Daylight broke, and Lena wasn’t sure whether to be thankful the walking alleviated her pain or regret she’d had less than an hour of sleep. Despite Deacon’s hard line with Trim, Lena couldn’t trust herself to close her eyes and leave Matthew on his own.

  After packing, a brief cold breakfast, and four hours of searching for Shanae’s trail, Trim hadn’t resurfaced. Deacon appeared unconcerned, and apparently nothing interfered with Wharton’s peace. The two shifters—now that was a term she was having a problem with—took turns between shifting and scouting ahead.

  She never saw them change. But each wolf wound around her legs when they returned. Deacon’s wolf paced beside her for several minutes after each change of the guard.

  Whether he was taking a mental gauge of her condition or bolstering her with some of the mojo he’d used on Trevor, the tight nagging in her back eased each time he appeared. When he left, she found herself searching for signs of him behind rocks and trees.

  “We need to move faster.” Trim strode from the trees alongside their path and dropped a backpack at Lena’s feet.

  Lena stared at the pack. It was obviously too good to hope that Trim’s mood had mellowed. A few more hours of peace would have been nice, but Lena felt more comfortable having Trim right where she could see her. “We’re making fair time.”

  “We’re not achieving anything. We’re spinning around down here by the water.” Trim glanced her way and frowned at the scope in Lena’s hands. “Your idea, I gather. Have you come across any trace of Shanae?”

  “Trevor was headed this direction,” Lena said. Actually, her initial confidence in their direction, despite the wolves picking up Shanae’s scent hours ago, had diminished. Lena excelled in tracking human beings, and the wolf differences scrambled her thought processes.

  “We could split up and cover more ground,” Trim said. From her smug expression, the idea pleased her a bit too much for Lena’s comfort.

  Deacon chose that moment to join them, his body blocking the sun from beating down on her as he moved beside her. “I want everyone together. I’ve smelled hunters. No more than one of us will shift at a time.”

  Trim stalked toward him. “We’re far away from the imbecile we released, but that doesn’t mean he can’t circle back. Or worse, lead more to our location. This pitter-patter along the stream is buying us nothing and leaving everyone exposed. There are feral tracks all over the place here.”

  “The prisoner isn’t our problem. Grizz and Breslin will make certain he doesn’t bother us.” Deacon crossed his arms over his chest and stretched his neck. Then he turned to Matthew. “The truth is there will likely be more attackers following us at some point. They’ll hardly give up.”

  “Then Trimbal has a point.” Lena specifically used Wharton’s term for Deacon’s teammate, less of a petty slight than an open acknowledgment that she didn’t fear retribution. “We’ll cover more area searching with both teams and more patience.”

  Trim snorted. “Patience, my ass. It won’t find Shanae. We need our animals unleashed with speed. Any of us can carry the boy and move faster. This whole thing stinks so much, I want to kill something.”

  “Well, that explains a lot,” Lena murmured and then bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smirking.

  Trim spun toward her, fuchsia nails curled toward her face. Lena whipped her knife to face level and jerked out her revolver in line with Trim’s stomach. “I suggest we don’t waste time fighting each other.”

  A low snarl issued from Trim’s throat. “Dealing with you won’t take any time.”

  “That’s enough.” Deacon’s growled command stopped everyone. “We all have the same objective, but there is more than one target here. Under no circumstances is anyone to be left vulnerable. Shanae’s made her priorities of her family clear. If she’s such a close friend of yours, Trim, you’ll respect her wishes.” He spun back toward Lena. “I’d hoped you would at least respect mine. We stay together. On one path. Traveling during daylight is our only option. Unless you’ve found a trail, Trim?”

  “No, Alpha.” Trim’s terse jerk of her chin matched her sullen expression, but she didn’t push further.

  Lena put away her gun. She hadn’t disengaged the safety, going with her gut that Deacon’s team wouldn’t harm her or Matthew. She couldn’t quite pinpoint why she trusted them, though for all Trim’s bluster, her adolescent temper tantrum lacked true hostility.

  Lena understood the need to take one’s frustrations out on someone who wouldn’t strike back. She spent enough hours with the sandbag and shadow training to fill a lifetime. Enough to know anger wouldn’t wash away Trim’s fears or help them find Shanae.

  “Whatever Shanae’s—extra talents, she can’t hold out alone.” Matthew moved cautiously closer. Trevor slept against his shoulder. For how long, no one could predict, but at least he slept through their bickering.

  Deacon nodded. “We’ll find her. You don’t have to trust me on this. I trained her. She was, and still is, one of the best in the clan at evading detection. However, motherhood has undoubtedly changed her priorities. I’m counting on that. Without confirmation of Trevor’s safety, she’ll force herself to survive.”

  Perhaps that was too visceral an image. Lena grabbed Matthew’s free arm as he launched toward Deacon. “You’re keeping us moving to lure her out. You—”

  Deacon shook his head, stepped backward, and actually turned his back on Matthew and walked away.

  Lena tugged gently to get Matthew’s attention. “You’re reading too much into this. Deacon’s only stating facts.” She lowered her voice. “All he meant was she won’t give up. None of us is here to fail, so we need to stay focused.”

  Lena crossed her arms and met Deacon’s half smile as he faced them again. “I still agree with Trim. We need to get moving,” she said. His expression blanked immediately, but she turned away to Matthew. “And I’m sorry, but I agree that the rest of us should share in carrying Trevor.”

  A long snicker bled through the air from Trim. “Your PI’s not very loyal is she, Mr. Philmont?”

  The words rang caustic and brittle, but the challenge beneath taunted enough to set Lena’s teeth on edge.

  “I’ll carry my son. Just me,” Matthew said.

  “You make the decisions about your son.” Lena exhaled loudly. “But we need to move quickly, and we all need to be alert.” She ignored his pointed glance at her arm sling. Overrun by Deacon’s annoying persistence this morning, she’d let him bind her arm. No, his command was more like it. As much as she hated not having full use of her arm, he was ri
ght. Immobilizing it eased the ache in her shoulder. “I trust that Wharton and Deacon won’t take Trevor. My opinion might not be enough for you, but if we’re going gain an advantage in the search, we need to compromise.”

  “Daddy’s right to worry.” Trim leaned closer to Lena and snapped her fingers. “Wolves are known for stealing things from right under your nose.”

  Deacon moved closer, but Lena turned and met Trim nose to nose. “To be honest, I don’t believe you’d take the boy. Because the first thing that will happen is he’ll scream bloody murder when you remove him from the security of his father.”

  “I’m not scared yet.” Trim’s expression no longer reflected taunting sarcasm but a forced indifference. “And the second thing?”

  Lena mirrored her smile with the same lack of warmth. “Your alpha will tear you a new one because he’s responsible for the behavior and conduct of his team.” She spun and stared at him. “He gave me his promise we’d work together. Threatening Matthew’s parental rights and upsetting Trevor isn’t teamwork.”

  “She’s correct,” Deacon said, moving between her and Trim.

  Trim stared at Lena and shrugged.

  Deacon turned toward Matthew. “You have my word. No one in the clan will take Trevor from you.”

  Wharton stepped forward. “He can ride on my wolf. While I love kids, I have no desire to bring one home and actually be responsible for him.” He stepped closer to Matthew and gazed down at the sleeping boy. “No threat from me.” Then he offered his hand.

  Lena bit back a laugh as Deacon groaned. As far as reassurance went, it had a long way to go, but Wharton knew how to break up a tense moment.

  Matthew’s stance eased as he accepted the gesture. “Thanks.”

  “We take a break now and then take turns with Trevor. We only travel until nightfall,” Deacon said.