Autumn's Blood: The Spirit Shifters, Book One

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Authors: Marissa Farrar

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BOOK: Autumn's Blood: The Spirit Shifters, Book One
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AUTUMN’S BLOOD

 

The Spirit Shifters: Book
One

 

 

 

Marissa Farrar

 

Published by Warwick House
Press

At Smashwords

 

 

For my family

TABLE OF CONTENTS

 

*You can click on the
title to be taken to the selection. Additionally, clicking on the
chapter titles will bring you back to the table of
contents.

 

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter
Thirteen

Chapter
Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter
Seventeen

Chapter
Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter
Twenty-one

Chapter
Twenty-two

Chapter
Twenty-three

Chapter
Twenty-four

Chapter
Twenty-five

Chapter
Twenty-six

Note from the
Author

Acknowledgements

About the
Author

Also by the
Author

Copyright
Information

 

 

Chapter
One

 

 

BLAKE WOLFCOLLAR FOLDED his arms
across his massive chest and bit down on the fury tearing through
him. He needed to keep control of his emotions. Now more than ever.
Losing his grip on himself would mean exposing his true identity to
the people who wanted to control his kind.

Bulletproof glass separated a team of
men—which included him—from the three people held captive. Further
sheets of glass divided the prisoners, deliberately done in order
for the detainees to be able to witness each other’s torment. In
each of the glass cubicles, a solitary metal chair was bolted to
the floor. The prisoners—a woman in her mid-thirties, a man of
about the same age, and a boy in his teens—had each been handcuffed
to the chairs. To any outsider, the people could have been a young
family, but Blake knew they’d never laid eyes upon each other until
they’d been brought to the facility.

The government building towered above
their heads, but they weren’t being held above the city. This part
of the compound was buried several stories beneath ground level,
preventing anyone who shouldn’t be there overhearing what was going
on.

His superior, and friend, Peter
Haverly, glanced over his shoulder to where Blake stood, his back
to the two-inch-thick metal door which led to the elevator
providing access to the rest of the building. Haverly’s eyes
widened at him briefly, accompanied by a slow shake of his
head.

Keep your cool.

Blake pressed his lips together and
glanced away. He understood what Haverly was telling him—don’t get
involved, stay quiet for the good of their kind—but he wasn’t known
for his self-control.

Maxim Dumas, a
silver-haired head of
Operation
Pursuit
, pressed a button located on the
control panel in front of him. He leaned forward and spoke into a
small microphone. “We know what each of you is. If you simply
change for us now, we won’t have the need to use force.”

A growl threatened to rumble from
Blake’s throat, but he managed to swallow it down. The blunt
ellipses of his nails dug into the intricate tribal tattoo etched
into the bulk of his bicep. He forced himself to loosen his grip
and ran a big palm over his head, his dark hair buzzed military
short. He had no way of telling Dumas that the man, woman, and boy
were unable to change at will without blowing his cover. Most
spirit shifters only fused with their spirit guides in moments of
intense stress, pain, or emotions. Of course, what Dumas planned on
doing would take these people to such a level, but he would assume
they cracked under torture rather than realize the pain was the
actual trigger.

The people behind the
screen stared at each other, abject fear widening their eyes. Blake
recognized the woman’s coffee-colored skin, only a shade darker
than his own, and her almost-black eyes and long, shiny, dark
hair.
Had they taken her from a
reservation?
Or was she like him, one of
the lucky ones who had managed to escape the poverty and build a
new life?

She strained against her bonds. “Who
are you? Why are you doing this to us?”

Dumas leaned forward once more. “I
don’t believe you’re in any position to be asking questions, Ms.
Lowery. The chair you are strapped to has an electrical current of
over a thousand volts attached to its feet. If you don’t do as I
ask, I will make sure my people start applying that voltage. We’ll
start off low, but it won’t stay that way for long if you don’t
comply.”

“You can’t do this!” she cried. “This
is abduction, and you’re threatening torture! It’s against the
law.”

He leaned forward. “We’re outside of
the law, Ms. Lowery. Now, I suggest you do as I tell you and change
before I get my men to switch on the current.”

“Fuck you!”

Dumas turned to the other men and
caught Blake’s eye. “She’s feisty.” He nodded approvingly. “I like
that.”

“What the hell do you people want?”
the man yelled, but no one acknowledged him.

Blake knew his background: married for
eight years, two children—a boy and a girl—your average American
Joe. With the exception of being able to shift into the form of his
animal spirit guide. For now, Dumas’ attention seemed to be focused
on the boy and the woman. Blake didn’t doubt the man’s time would
come.

Dumas turned back. “Do you see the boy
sitting in the chamber beside you? How about if he’s the one who
receives the charge? Do you know what a high electrical current
does to the human body, Ms. Lowery? Oh, but wait. You’re not
exactly human, are you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking
about.”

He laughed. “Why keep denying
it?”

Blake clenched his teeth. Dumas was
wrong. Spirit shifters were human, at least most of the time. They
just had talents unlike the vast majority of their counterparts.
Their abilities varied from shifter to shifter. Where some people,
like himself, had been chosen by their animal spirits at birth and
so could shift at will, the majority were chosen by their spirits
later in life, making their powers less.

“Do you know what happens to the body
during an electrocution?” Dumas continued. “Your heart will stop;
whether that’s permanent or simply an arrhythmia, depends on the
voltage. Every muscle in your body will go rigid. You will probably
bite down on your tongue, possibly severing it. Oh, and because
you’re not completely strapped down, there is a good chance an arch
of electricity will leap from the chair to your body, causing
severe burns. Is that what you want to happen to the
boy?”

Her gaze darted wildly to the teenager
in the room beside her. The boy renewed his struggles, the muscles
in his arms popping as he tried to wrench them from the
cuffs.

“I can’t do what you want me to!” she
cried. “It doesn’t work like that!”

A sly smile quirked Dumas’ lips. “So
you admit there is something you can do?”

Tears welled in her dark eyes. She
looked between the boy on one side of her and the man on the other.
The man’s jaw tensed and he gave his head a slight
shake.

Blake took a deep breath,
trying to disguise his reactions to the scene playing out in front
of him, allowing the air to exhale slowly through his nose. He
wanted nothing more than to leap at Dumas and rip him from the
control panel and set the other shifters free, but he couldn’t.
This thing was bigger than three people. He’d need to find a way to
release them, but he’d need to do it later, when he could disguise
his identity. Being in the middle of this thing allowed him to
learn of the government’s plans, even if it was simply by
eavesdropping on conversations. Haverly was also privy to most of
the secret conversations, but not all of them. Blake was used as
muscle for whatever Dumas wanted, and the man tended to keep him
around. Learning more about the progress of
Operation Pursuit
was the most
important thing. At times like this, he needed to remember
that.

Dumas’ head cocked to one side.
“Time’s up.” He gave a nod to the man sitting beside him, a
technical guy Blake only knew as Miller. The man returned the nod
and flicked a switch.

The boy went rigid in his chair, his
fingers curling, his knuckles turning white from the pressure of
his grip on the arms of the chair. The shock was small and he fell
limp after only a couple of seconds, but he groaned, his head
lolling forward.

The woman stared at the boy in alarm
and then back at the two-inch-thick glass. Due to the one-way
mirrors positioned on her side, she was unable to see her captors.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Are you going to do what we
want?”

“I can’t! How many times do I have to
tell you?”

“Then we’ll increase the
voltage.”

Dumas gave Miller another nod and the
man twisted a dial on the console and flicked the switch once
more.

Instantly, the boy bucked in the
chair, his back arching, his narrow chest thrusting out. His eyes
rolled in his head, flashing the forked red of his eyeballs. He
jerked, his hands once again tightening around the arms of the
chair as a higher voltage of electricity shot through his young
body.

“No! Stop!” the woman screamed.
“You’re hurting him.”

The man said nothing, but resumed his
efforts to get free. Miller flicked the switch and the current
died, the boy dropping limp in his chair.

Blake’s heart lodged in his throat.
Was the boy dead? No, his eyes flickered open and he started to
groan.

Dumas pushed the button for the
microphone. “That was nothing. We can go a lot higher.”

She pounded her fists against the
metal armrest of her chair. “I can’t do it at will! Why won’t you
listen to me?” She paused, her eyes widening. “Electrocute me! If
you electrocute me, I might be able to change for you. I’ll try,
honest I will.”

Blake didn’t want to see either of
them electrocuted, but the woman might be stronger. The boy would
have turned by now if he had the power to do so. Blake could only
assume the reason he hadn’t was because his connection with his
spirit was weak, and possibly the electric current had done nothing
to help. Either that or he was strong enough to resist.

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