Autumn's Blood: The Spirit Shifters, Book One (13 page)

THANKS TO THE wonder of Google, it
hadn’t taken Mia long to pull up the position of the Wests’
apartment. Only one park lay in close proximity to their home, so
this was where she intended to start her search for their missing
son.

She pulled her old, red Honda Civic
into the parking lot opposite the old pavilion in Thatcher Woods
then climbed out and headed off down one of the paths more often
used by joggers or dog-walkers. The hour was getting late now, so
she didn’t pass many other people. She’d wanted to try to capture
what Toby might have been feeling or doing, while still being able
to see. Her feet sank into the muddy ground of the floodplain, the
Des Plaines River rushing peacefully by. On either side of her, oak
trees rose gracefully into the sky, the wind rustling their
branches as though they were taking part in a whispered
conversation she wasn’t privy too. Mia wasn’t even sure what she
was looking for—some kind of clue that might lead to the
explanation of why Toby left his room in the middle of the night
and where he was now.

Due to the river running through the
area, Thatcher Woods often suffered from flooding, which would
explain the presence of the muddy footprints and Toby’s dirty feet.
Of course, it still didn’t explain how he was getting in and out of
his room in the middle of the night, but she hoped that would come
to light.

She spotted the green shirt and tan
sunhat of one of the volunteers who helped maintain the
park.

“Excuse me?”

The older man turned to her with a
scowl until he caught sight of the young, pretty woman, and then
his face brightened. He cleared his throat and wiped his palms on
the front of his shirt. “Oh, hello, Miss. Can I help
you?”

Mia pulled a photograph of Toby West
from her purse. “I wondered if you might have seen this boy. He’s
been missing for nine days now, and he liked to come to the
woods.”

He peered in at the photograph.
“Missing, you say?”

She nodded.

“No, I’m sorry, can’t say I
have.”

“It’s possible he came here at night
time.”

His lips pursed, his fat forehead
furrowing in disapproval. “Night time?”

She knew what he was thinking. The
group of volunteers who maintained the park had recently removed a
dilapidated concrete shelter from the woods to try to prevent
groups of delinquents from gathering and drinking and taking part
in not-so-welcome activities.

“
Oh, no, not like that,”
she said hurriedly. “He just liked to walk.”

“Hmm, well, I’m sorry, but he doesn’t
look familiar to me.”

“
Are you working with
others today? Might they be willing to take a look?”

“Sure, though I think a few of them
have probably called it a day. The rest will be all over the park.
Might take you a while to get around them.”

The park covered more than two hundred
acres. Traipsing around trying to find a few persons would be like
searching for individual pebbles on a beach. “Is there any way you
can contact them for me? Perhaps ask them to meet me when they’re
done?”

“I suppose that would be okay.” He
pulled a cell from his pocket and placed a number of
calls.

“Thanks,” she said, offering him a
smile.

He shrugged. “No problem. Though they
might be awhile.”

She thanked him again and kept herself
busy by continuing her walkabout until the other volunteers showed
up. She noticed surveillance cameras around the parking lot and
restrooms, and wondered who she’d need to contact to gain access to
the footage. There was a chance they might have picked up
something.

Gradually, a couple of other
volunteers showed up and Mia ran through the same questions again.
The result was the same. None had seen Toby or recognized his
photograph. She sighed. It really did seem like he’d vanished into
thin air.

The last of the light began to vanish
from the sky, the moon appearing as a ghostly circle in the indigo
sky.

Time to call it a day.

Mia headed back to her car. Other than
a couple of vehicles belonging, she assumed, to the volunteers, the
parking lot was empty. She reaching into her purse and fished out
her keys. As she reached her car, and went to select the correct
key to open the door, she fumbled the key fob and dropped them on
the asphalt. She bent to pick them up again.

As she straightened, rough hands
grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around, pinning her
against the side of her car. She drew in a breath to scream, but a
hand blocked her mouth. She found herself staring into the gray
eyes of her attacker. Though she couldn’t see any other part of the
man’s features, she noted distinctive gold flecks in the iris of
his right eye. A black balaclava, like the type she’d expect to see
in an old hold-up movie, covered the rest of his face.

Immediately, her worst
fear sprang to mind.
Oh, God. I’m going to
be raped.
But then the man reached for her
purse and she wondered if he planned on mugging her
first.

Her eyes flicked over his shoulder,
desperately hoping someone else was around—if not one of the
volunteer rangers, then a dog walker or jogger—but the place seemed
to be deserted.

To her confusion, he reached into her
purse and pulled out the photograph of Toby West. He crumpled the
picture in front of her face. “Stop asking about the boy,” he spat.
“I’m warning you.”

The man let her go and spun on his
heels, taking off at a jog across the car lot and disappearing
between the trees.

He left her gasping with shock, the
world blurring as tears filled her eyes. Sudden panic filled her as
she wondered if he’d come back and finish the job, and she hit the
button on her key fob to open the car. She fumbled with the handle
a couple of times before dragged the door open, climbing inside,
and slamming the door behind her. She locked the doors, her hands
shaking.

What the hell?
Why on earth would someone warn her off asking
about Toby? The only explanation was that the man had something to
do with the boy going missing, but how would he know who she was or
where she’d be? Also, that was pretty unusual behavior for someone
who might be involved in the disappearance. Normally, she’d expect
a perp to stay well out of the way, not confront someone in the
daytime, and in a public place at that. The whole thing was
off.

She’d need to report the incident to
the police, preferably the detective dealing with the case. If the
person responsible for Toby going missing was still in the city,
then there was a good chance Toby was as well.

She took a deep breath and settled her
hands on the wheel. Right now, she only wanted to be home. Safe.
With people around her she trusted.

Chapter
Twelve

CHOGAN’S HOTEL ROOM was clean and
tidy, but modest. A double bed was neatly made, a small bottle of
water positioned next to a glass on the bedside table. On the desk,
opposite the bed, was a small flat screen television. None of his
belongings littered any of the surfaces, no change of clothing or
toiletries on the desk.

“How did you get to the city?” Blake
asked him, thinking he already knew the answer.

“I ran,” he replied, confirming
Blake’s suspicions. Being in wolf form made it difficult to carry
luggage.

Blake nodded his understanding. As
wolves, they were able to move quickly and almost silently through
the areas unpatrolled by police or security cameras. Taking wolf
form wasn’t a bad idea. They could stay off the radar that way.
Dumas’ men were less likely to find them than if they took a car
and rode the highway.

Autumn’s complexion was pale and she
sank down to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Are you all right?” Blake asked her,
frowning.

She nodded. “This is all just a lot to
take in.”

He reached out and picked up the
bottle of water, twisted off the cap, and handed it to her. “Here,
drink this.”

She accepted the water with a grateful
smile.

“We should be safe here for the time
being,” said Chogan. “So are you going to tell me what’s going
on?”

Blake hesitated. He’d not seen Chogan
for several years, and they’d not parted company on good terms. He
didn’t trust the other shifter, even though they were blood
related. But right now, he didn’t have the luxury of being picky;
he wasn’t exactly swimming in allies. His thoughts turned to
Haverly. He hoped the other man was all right.

The problem was the last time he had
spoken to Chogan, his cousin hadn’t exactly shared his—and most
other shifters’—views about keeping their kind a secret. In
Chogan’s mind, the world would be a better place if all humans were
aware of the existence of their kind. He believed them to be
stronger and more powerful than the rest of humanity. He didn’t
seem to comprehend the fact that they would be forced to live like
freaks.

Blake decided half the truth would
have to do. There was no need for his cousin to learn about the
reason behind Dumas’ interest in Autumn. The idea made him shudder.
God only knows what Chogan would do with such
information.

“The department I work for is holding
three shifters captive,” he said, running a hand over the top of
his head. Unable to contain his frustration, he began to pace the
small floor space of the hotel room. Chogan stood by the window,
his arms folded, his expression hard.

Autumn straightened, her eyes wide.
“What?”

He’d forgotten this would be news to
her as well. “I think one of them is the woman you were talking
about, Chogan, the one from the reservation. She shifted into a
panther. Does that sound right?” He looked to him for confirmation.
From the way the other man stood, with his fists clenched, jaw
tight as he glared at him, Blake assumed it did.

“I’ll kill the bastards,” his cousin
spat.

Autumn leaned forward, her elbows
rested on her knees, hands knotted together. “Where are they held
captive?”

“Containment Area Three. The bottom
level beneath the building.”

“The one only accessible by the
fingerprint pad?”

He nodded. “Right. Other than via the
elevator, no one can get down there, so freeing them won’t be easy.
The only possibility might be via tunnels which run beneath the
building. They’re designed as a way to get Dumas and anyone else he
considers important enough out, should the building come under some
kind of attack. I’m not sure how we’d do it alone, but a
distraction on the upper level might mean one of us could get to
the shifters from below.”

“Okay,” Chogan nodded slowly, “I think
we can work with that. But how did they get the woman from the
reservation to shift? She’s not a birth shifter, she shouldn’t be
able to shift at will.”

Blake hung his head and chewed at his
lower lip. “Dumas and his men are torturing them to get them to
shift. Electric shocks. They’ve got a boy as well—no more than
fourteen, maybe fifteen years old. The woman shifted in order to
stop the boy being tortured. They had her chained with cuffs on her
wrists and legs and she broke every limb while she
shifted.”

Chogan turned away, shaking his head.
“Jesus ...”

Autumn stared at him in horror.
“They’re torturing people? Right beneath where I was working? How
the hell could you let them?”

His head snapped around at her. “What
was I supposed to do? I needed to find out what Dumas had planned.
I needed to keep an eye on what you were doing.” He glared at her,
hoping she’d understand he didn’t want her to share that particular
part of the story with their new companion.

She seemed to understand and backed
down.

Chogan lifted his chin in her
direction. “So what’s she got to do with this whole
thing?”

“She’s nothing. She just got caught up
in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

He looked between them, as if trying
to decide if this was the truth.

“Well, what do we do now?” asked
Autumn.

“Sit pretty until we figure out what
to do,” said Blake. “Rest up.”

Chogan growled. “I’m not going to sit
around and do nothing.”

“We can’t do anything until the heat
dies down,” Blake snapped. “So just cool it.”

Hoping for distraction, he crossed the
room and flicked on the television. A news article came on, nothing
interesting. Then another reporter interrupted and a news reel ran
across the bottom of the screen …

“Breaking news. Local
police in Chicago are warning citizens to be on their guard for
this man…”
A picture of Blake, sullen and
threatening, flashed up on screen.
“He is
thought to be armed and dangerous after kidnapping renowned
scientist, Doctor Autumn Anderson.”
Now it
was Autumn’s turn to have her face flashed on screen—a photograph
of her, probably taken for a work ID at some time, wearing her suit
and glasses, looking older than she did now. The reporter
continued,
“Sergeant Blake Wolfcollar
kidnapped Doctor Anderson from the government building where she
was working this afternoon, attacking one man and killing another.
If you have any information about his whereabouts, please contact
the number on screen below.”
The reporter
lowered his notes and peered intently into the camera.
“Please, whatever you do, do not be tempted to
approach this man yourself. He is armed and considered extremely
dangerous.”