Autumn's Blood: The Spirit Shifters, Book One (12 page)

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Authors: Marissa Farrar

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BOOK: Autumn's Blood: The Spirit Shifters, Book One
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He bent to retrieve his clothing,
pulling on his jeans and t-shirt. “I’m real.”

Chapter
Ten

 

 

FROM SOMEWHERE IN the building, the
shrill ring of a phone cut through the air.

Now fully dressed, Blake strode across
the apartment to where he had dumped his leather jacket. He fished
his cell phone from the pocket, the events of the past few minutes
played through his mind. How could he not be affected by Autumn’s
hands running over his body like that? He’d wanted to reach out and
free her hair from that prim and proper bun she wore, so the curls
fell down her back. He’d wanted to lock his hand in her tresses,
force her mouth to his, and kiss her hard. He’d wanted to scoop her
slender body against his and press his need against her flat
stomach.

That was one problem with spending so
much time naked. Sometimes it was hard to hide exactly how you
felt.

He hit the answer key and barked into
the slender phone. “Wolfcollar.”

“Blake, it’s me.” His mind
clicked into gear.
Haverly!
“Dumas has already figured out that you’ve taken
off with Doctor Anderson. He doesn’t know the reason yet, but it
won’t take him long. His team is already going through the computer
records in the lab.”

“Shit.” He glanced back over at
Autumn. She watched him with wide, worried eyes.

“Did you destroy the samples
yet?”

Blake thought of the slivers of glass,
still inside his jacket pocket. “Not properly, though I doubt
they’ll be in any state considering I’ve been running around with
them not even boxed.”

“Burn them as soon as you can. We
don’t want Dumas getting hold of them and figuring out a way of
replicating whatever is in Doctor Anderson’s blood that was able to
cause the shift.”

“Sure.” He strode into his kitchen.
“I’m doing it now.”

He flicked on the gas burner and then
went and picked up his black leather jacket, delved in the pocket,
and pulled out the two slides.

Autumn must have realized what he was
about to do. “No! Stop! I need those.”

“Hang on,” he told Haverly, then
turned to Autumn. “These things are dangerous.”

“But I might never be able to
replicate the experiment fully.”

“Good.” He dropped both slides
facedown into the flames. Autumn stared, dismay written all over
her face.

“Okay, it’s done,” he said, speaking
back into the phone. “Now what?”

“You need to get the doctor somewhere
safe and get rid of this phone. They’re already—”

His words were cut off as the sound of
shouting came in the background.

“Hang on just one minute!” Haverly
yelled. Blake had the feeling he wasn’t talking to him. More shouts
echoed down the line and then came a crash, muffled scrapes,
banging, and more yelling.

A sharp crack made Blake yank his head
away from the phone. “Shit!” He put the handset back to his ear.
“Haverly? You still there? Can you hear me?”

But the line was dead.

“Damn it!” Blake hung up and dropped
his own phone to the floor. He lifted one heavily-booted foot and
brought it down hard, again and again, smashing the item into a
dozen smaller pieces.

“What did you do that for?” Autumn
asked, aghast.

“Dumas’ lot can track a cell. They’ll
be here soon.”

Blake closed his eyes,
focusing in on his wolf. Because of the recent shift, his guide was
already near and answered him quickly.
Guard,
Blake told it.
Watch out for enemies.
He sensed his wolf’s understanding, and the animal took off,
patrolling the perimeter of the building at a fast trot, its head
held high. Its ears were pricked for sound, nostrils flared for the
scent of danger.

Blake crossed the room and climbed the
set of metal stairs to the raised level that served as his bedroom.
He flung open the closet and pulled out a hold-all bag containing
another gun, extra ammunition, a fake ID, and a wad of
cash.

“What are you doing?” Autumn called up
to him.

He hoisted the bag onto his shoulder
and headed back down the steps. “We can’t stay here. I thought I’d
kept this place a secret, but they’ve tracked my phone.” He looked
at Autumn and noted that at least she didn’t have her purse with
her. One less thing to worry about. “We need to get out of
here.”

He took her by the elbow and pulled
her along.

“Where are we going?” she asked,
breaking into a trot to keep up with his long strides.

“I’m not sure yet.”

The image of a long black car with
blacked out windows cruising by suddenly appeared in his head—his
wolf warning him.

“Shit,” he swore, breaking into a run.
“They’re already here.”

She ran with him now, no longer
showing the resistance she had before witnessing his shift into
wolf form. Together, they ran with Blake leading to the back of his
apartment. Hidden in the back wall, a smaller door was cut into the
brick.

“Come on.”

They ducked through and stepped out
into a narrow alleyway. Industrial-sized trashcans lined the
opposite wall. A couple of windows were positioned higher up, metal
bars barring the way—they weren’t an option for escape.

In his head appeared the image of a
man in a long, dark coat, a gun held close against its folds. The
man stayed close to the wall, skirting the perimeter. At the
intruder’s back, Blake’s wolf guide growled, but there was nothing
it could do in spirit form except relay information back to
Blake.

“Stay here,” he hissed at Autumn,
pressing her against the wall. He put out a hand as though to
steady her.

“Where are you going?” she hissed
back.

He placed his finger
against his lips.
Be quiet.

Movement came from around the corner,
the strange man moving like a cop, with his back to Blake’s
building. As he rounded the bend, he began to turn, but he moved
too late.

Blake grabbed the man, one arm wrapped
around his throat, the other knocking the gun from his hand. The
weapon hit the ground with a clatter, skidding across the concrete.
The man didn’t even get the chance to shout out in surprise. Blake
tightened his grip and a choked, strangling sound escaping from the
man’s throat. His feet kicked, trying to find purchase, but Blake
was easily six inches taller than the attacker—not to mention
immensely stronger and faster—and he didn’t stand a chance. Blake
knew from experience that the man’s lips would be turning blue by
now, his eyes bulging.

He sent a thought out to
his wolf:
Are there any more?
If he was found now, he’d be shot before he even
got the chance to let go of the man he held captive. In his arms,
the intruder went limp.

Blake wouldn’t kill the man, but he’d
certainly leave him unconscious for an hour or more. He let go and
the guy slumped to the floor.

His wolf sent him images, another two
men around the other side of the building. But were there more on
his side? He couldn’t imagine them splitting up in an uneven
number, one would always plan on getting the other’s
back.

As if Blake’s suspicion had conjured
him, another man—a beanie hat pulled down over his head—appeared
around the corner, a gun held in both hands and pointed directly at
Blake.

Blake lifted his hands in
surrender.

Behind him came movement as Autumn
dived for the gun the other man had dropped. The new arrival swung
his weapon in her direction.

“Autumn, no!” Blake
yelled, his heart lurching with fear, certain she’d be killed. But
she grabbed the weapon, rolled to one side, and sat up, aiming the
gun in the other man’s direction. She didn’t get the chance to use
it. Something launched at the man’s back, knocking him to the
ground. His gun went off with a muffled
pop
—a silencer, Blake realized—the
bullet streaking past Blake’s ear.

He looked back to find Chogan sitting
on top of the other man. His cousin reached down, took the man’s
head between both hands, and gave a hard wrench, snapping his
neck.

 

 

AUTUMN GOT TO her feet, still pointing
the gun which trembled in her grip. She’d never even held a weapon
before, never mind fired one—she was a scientist for God’s
sake!—but at that moment, she hadn’t doubted that she would have
killed to save Blake. Her back and shoulder burned from where she’d
grazed herself on the concrete while going for the gun.

“You!”

With astonishment, she realized that
she recognized the guy now climbing off the dead man’s body. He was
the same one who had stopped her on the way home.

Blake spun to her. “You know
him?”

“Yes ... no ... Well, he helped me the
other day.”

The man gave a slow grin. “You can
thank me later, Cuz. For now, I think we need to get out of
here.”

“We
don’t need to do anything. You shouldn’t even be
here.”

“Others are coming. We can’t exactly
hang out.”

Autumn lowered the gun.
“Others?”

Blake turned to her. “There are more
men on the other side of the building. And, as much as I hate to
admit it, Chogan is right.”

The other man jerked his head to the
left, his long black hair flowing down one shoulder. “Come on, this
way.”

She looked to Blake for confirmation.
He nodded and held his hand out to her. She slipped her free palm
into his. The heat of his skin burned through hers in the cool
evening. Together, the three of them ran down the alleyway until
they reached a part where the building ended and a small patch of
scrubland began.

Chogan lifted up a part of a
chain-link fence which separated them from freedom. “Quick, under
here.”

He climbed through first and then
Blake pushed Autumn after. She clambered beneath on her hands and
knees, her hair catching in the metal wire. Pain spiked through her
scalp as she tore free, her hair unraveling from the knot she’d so
carefully styled first thing that morning, leaving her curls
hanging around her face. She lifted her head to find Chogan
standing above her. The strange man reached down to help her up.
She hesitated a moment, wondering if she could trust this new
arrival, but took the offered hand and allowed him to pull her to
her feet.

Blake rolled beneath, a smooth
movement for such a big man, and he pulled the fence back down,
hiding the hole.

“They’re coming,” he
hissed.

They stepped back into the dark
shadows of the alcove of the adjacent building just as two more
men, both carrying weapons, ran past on the other side of the
fence. The small group waited for a moment for them to pass by, and
then Chogan slid out of the shadows and took off across the patch
of scrubland.

Autumn and Blake exchanged a glance
and followed.

The area led out onto another street.
They slowed to a fast walk so as not to stand out.

“We don’t need you here, Chogan,” said
Blake, keeping his voice low. “This doesn’t concern
you.”

“Could have fooled me. You’d probably
be shot in the head right now if I hadn’t come along. Why are they
after you, anyway?”

“It’s none of your
business.”

“No? Well, why do I have the feeling
this has something to do with the missing shifters you were
supposed to be checking up on?”

Autumn looked between the two men like
she was at a tennis match. “Missing shifters? You mean, like you
are?” she asked Blake.

Chogan interrupted. “Like we both
are.”

Her eyes widened. “You
too?”

“Yes.” He studied her. She shifted
uncomfortably under the intensity of his gaze, so like Blake’s, but
with a sharper edge. “And where exactly do you come into all of
this?”

Blake growled. “She
doesn’t.”

“No? Don’t lie to me, Cuz. I can smell
your lies coming off you like bad cologne.”

Blake’s hand pressed against the small
of her back, the contact making her draw in a breath of surprise.
“I don’t have time to explain all of this. Dumas’ men are going to
discover the apartment empty, not to mention an unconscious man and
a dead body, and figure out that we’ve been there and can’t be far.
We need to concentrate on getting to safety and talk
then.”

Chogan seemed to weigh up his options.
“Fine. I’ve got a hotel room. We can hole up there for the time
being, and then you can tell me why these people want you and
Blondie dead.”

Autumn’s head snapped around at the
name. “Actually, it’s Doctor Anderson to you.”

He smirked and she got a
glimpse of impossibly white teeth. “Is it now? Beauty
and
brains. My favorite
combination.”

Chapter
Eleven

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