Avenging Autumn (16 page)

“Do you hear that?” Marcus asked.

“Hear wha...” she started, but didn’t finish. She realized what he was talking about. The sirens didn’t appear to be growing more distant, and therefore heading toward the fire. Instead, they seemed to be getting louder by the second.

Tension clenched the muscles in her neck and shoulders, her stomach contracting in a clamp. Automatically, she reached behind her, to the weapon wedged in the back of her jeans, the cold metal digging painfully into her back. It hadn’t been the most comfortable position to drive in, but she cared more about easy access to the weapon than she did her own comfort.

“Marcus,” she said. “I think we need to get ready.”

“For what?” he managed, before cars came flying into view from every direction. The vehicles skidded to a halt at an angle in front of them, and behind, blocking their escape. A screech of tires on asphalt, the hot smell of burning rubber and dust assaulting her nostrils. The sound of the sirens was deafening.

The two police cars’ doors opened and two people—an older man and a younger woman climbed out. Both held guns, the black muzzles pointed in Autumn’s direction. She glanced in the rear view mirror, to see the officers in the vehicles behind them had also climbed out and drawn on them.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

The male cop in front of her approached their truck. “Autumn Anderson?”

Her stomach sank.

“Place both hands on the steering wheel where I can see them,” the cop demanded.

Her palms itched again, wanting to pull her own weapon, but she couldn’t risk it. She had Daisy in the car, and Marcus, too. They were innocents, and didn’t deserve to get caught up in whatever shit was about to land on her doorstep. If she pulled her weapon, a shootout would ensue, and at the moment her solitary gun was outnumbered about eight to one. She didn’t want anyone else’s blood on her hands, unless it was Vivian’s.

With a sigh, Autumn cooperated, and placed both palms on the wheel. She stared at the backs of her hands, noting how her skin suddenly seemed older, with fine lines and thinning. All this stress wasn’t good for her.

Marcus glanced at her. “What’s going on?”

“No idea. But they obviously want me for something.”

The male cop approached, and she lifted her head. As he got closer, she noticed the sheriff’s badge on his chest, and matched it with the badge on the vehicle doors. This was a local sheriff’s department, not some big government led attack. The woman scooted closer, too, each of them keeping the truck covered. He darted forward and yanked open her door.

“Keeping your hands where I can see them, slowly get out of the car.”

Autumn did as she was instructed and got out of the car. She kept her hands held in the air, while the two officers rushed toward her. They grabbed her by the arms and spun her around, slamming her against the hood of the truck. Her body smacked against the hot metal, her breath expelled in a whoosh, and pain spearing up through her ribs. She wanted to say something about police brutality, but figured it wouldn’t do her any favors.

Quickly, he frisked her, and pulled the weapon from the back of her jeans. “Do you have a license to carry? I’m going to assume not. And if not, this weapon won’t be registered to you either?”

Autumn pressed her lips together, not replying.

“Autumn Anderson, I am arresting you on suspicion of conspiracy to incite hatred, and carrying a loaded firearm without a license.”

Marcus yelled, “She hasn’t done anything! Let her go!”

“It’s okay, Marcus,” she called back.

The sheriff continued, “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.”

Her hands were yanked together, and cold metal circles of steel clicked around her wrists

A howl and snarl came from the other side of the road, and a bundle of fur and snapping teeth was manhandled toward them. At first, she couldn’t figure out what was happening, but then she realized Animal Control had one of the wolf shifters on the end of a large pole with a noose around its neck. It took several men to keep the shifter under control.

She wondered about the others. Had they gotten away? Or were they about to be grabbed too?

“Go back to the house,” she yelled as she was dragged away toward the sheriff’s car. “Tell everyone what’s happened.”

“But I don’t know how to drive!” Marcus shouted back.

“You’re going to have to let Rhys drive,” she managed to shout back, before the top of her head was shoved down and she was pushed into the back of the sheriff’s car.

She hated leaving them like this. Where the fuck was Ollie? Did this have to do with him?

She figured she’d find out soon enough.

––––––––

T
HE MOOD IN the house simmered with tension.

Madison had been told what had happened to her husband, and she’d begged for them not to call the police, something Blake didn’t particularly want to do either. A.J.’s death had been self-defense, but they would need to explain to the cops why they’d locked the guy up in the cellar in the first place. That he’d taken a crowbar to try and hack his way out didn’t look great for them either, and the only proof of any abduction happening was their word that it had.

Madison had kept Billy well away from the house, and so far he hadn’t asked what had happened to his daddy. Wenona and Lakota managed to get A.J.’s body back into his SUV, and then they’d driven in out into the forest somewhere, together with a couple of shovels. Blake wished he’d been able to go with them and help—leaving the burial of a body to an elderly man and woman seemed too much to ask—but he couldn’t. Instead, he helped himself to a bottle of bleach from beneath Wenona’s kitchen sink, together with a bucket, cloths, and water, and got to work scrubbing the blood off the floorboards the best he could. They’d need to remove the cellar door later and chop it up for firewood. It couldn’t be left as it was.

Blake spun around as the back door slammed open.

Lakota and Wenona had made it back on foot. Both were pink cheeked and breathing hard as they made their way into the kitchen.

“Sit down, both of you,” Blake said, alarm rising in him. It was too much, asking all of this from two older people. “I’ll get you some water.”

Wenona waved a hand. “No, no, I’ll get it.”

“I said, sit down.” His tone was harsh and she sank into one of the wooden chairs around the kitchen table.

Blake rolled himself to the sink and poured them both a glass of water, before bringing it over to them. They both drank gratefully.

Lakota set the empty glass on the table. “We couldn’t get the SUV too deep into the forest. The place was too overgrown, but it’s well enough away from the house.”

“That’ll have to do until the others get back.”

He was worried about them. He’d have thought Autumn, Chogan, Peter, and the others would have been back by now, or that they’d at least have gotten in touch to tell him how things were going. He could only pray for their safety. But something else bothered him as well. When he’d been in the spirit world, his wolf had been about to submit to him. He’d been so close, but the sound of the gunshots had pulled him from whatever magic Lakota used to allow him to traverse into the spirit world. Blake was worried if he left it too long, he’d lose whatever ground he’d made. Also, when A.J. had burst through the cellar door, causing Blake to shoot him dead, Blake had noticed his wolf growling in the back of his mind. It hadn’t been a frightened, fearful growl, such as the one Blake had experienced before. This time it was one of anger, and excitement. He’d felt like his wolf wanted to join in, had almost pressed him to shift, as it had done in the past.

“You have to take me back again, Father,” he said to Lakota, once the older man had appeared to catch his breath, and his face returned to its normal color. “We need to go back to the forest and repeat the spell to let me contact my wolf again. It was so close this time. I think if we hadn’t been interrupted by the gunshots, it would have submitted to me fully.”

Lakota shook his head. “It’s too soon. You need to rest.”

“No!” He slammed both hands down against the arm rests of the wheelchair. “All I’m doing is fucking resting, sitting in this thing all the time. What I need is to get my wolf back and at least see if I have some chance of being a shifter again. I’ve proven myself to my wolf. It can see that I’m not some weak man, just because I can’t use my legs. I’m still strong, I’m still powerful. I felt it in the back of my mind, and it wanted to shift, but still held back. I know if I can come face to face with it again, that I can convince it to shift with me.”

“It’s dangerous, Blackened Hawk. You might find yourself more a part of the afterlife than of this one. It’s too easy to become lost and you’ve only just got back.”

“I don’t care. If I wait, my wolf might back off again. I need to do this while it is close.”

His father sighed. “Autumn and Chogan might be back with your sister soon. Surely we can wait until after then.”

Blake let out a growl that sounded wolf-like in itself. “If you make me wait, and my guide backs off again, I will only blame you.” He knew his words were childlike and blackmailing in nature, but he was desperate. His father didn’t know how it felt to be so close to something so important, only to feel it slip away at the last possible moment. He softened his tone. “I’m sorry, Father. I didn’t mean to be angry with you. I just need this to happen and you’re the only one who can help me.”

Lakota nodded. “Very well. But you must be careful, Blake. Remember the rules.”

“I know. I will.”

Madison poked her head around the kitchen door, holding Billy back with one hand. “Is everything okay?”

Blake nodded. “Yes, he’s gone. He can’t hurt you now.”

She gave a half smile, and brought Billy into the kitchen with her to sit at the table. “Billy said he wanted a snack.”

“Sure,” said Wenona. “Help yourself.”

“Are you going to be all right?” Blake asked Wenona.

“Of course,” said the older woman. “Go and do what you need to do.”

Together, Blake and his father made their way back to the spot they’d left only a few hours earlier, Blake’s chair bumping and jolting over the rough terrain. They had abandoned all of the paraphernalia Lakota needed to help Blake into the spirit world, too caught up in the drama occurring at the house to think about picking up the belongings. The candles lay fallen on the ground, though Lakota had kept the pouch of herbs he needed firmly around his neck, and hidden beneath his shirt.

The constant worry about Autumn and the others played on Blake’s mind. They should have been back by now. Was it possible Vivian and her men had overpowered them? He didn’t think so. If they had, he had a feeling Vivian would be here by now, finishing the rest of them off. She didn’t seem like a woman who did things by halves, and she knew where their base was because she’d had one her men deliver Autumn’s father’s hand here. Despite trying to reassure himself, he still didn’t feel confident about Autumn’s safety. This was the reason he needed to be able to shift. If he was able to take on the form of a wolf, and by some miracle was able to run again, then he would go after Autumn and the others. He’d be able to follow the trail Peter, Mia, and the other shifters had left, and hopefully go right to them.

Blake heaved himself out of the chair and back down to the ground. His father reached out to help him, but Blake shook him off. If he could kill a man, he could sure as hell get himself in and out of his own chair.

He wriggled down onto the ground and lay flat on his back, looking up at the sky and canopy of trees. His stomach churned with nerves. He needed his wolf back—knew it with more certainty than anything else he’d ever felt—and he was terrified that if he failed this time, he wouldn’t get another chance.

Lakota rearranged the candles around him and lit the wicks. As he began his low, melodic, primal song, Blake allowed his eyes to close. He pulled his thoughts to the back of his mind, to the place his wolf had once inhabited. Not so long ago, he’d been able to contact his wolf here, had been able to reach it without resorting to magic, but now the space felt empty.

The song continued, rising and ebbing all around him. It lulled him into a kind of trance, and his connection with the cool ground beneath him seemed to drift away. It was like falling asleep, yet being conscious of the moment a dream state was entered.

Blake opened his eyes.

The tree branches and leaves above his head had lost their vivid color. The sky beyond no longer a clear blue, but more of a white haze. He pushed himself to sitting, leaving his body still lying flat on the ground, and then slowly got to his feet. He was still able to see his father moving around his body in a circle, and yet somehow the older man felt distant. He wondered what would happen if he tried to reach out and touch his father. Would he be affected by it at all? Would he sense his son’s touch, or would something more malicious occur? Blake didn’t intend on risking either himself or his father by finding out. Now wasn’t the time for foolish experiments.

The landscape of the spirit world had become almost familiar to him now. He turned in the direction he’d always gone, the way he knew his wolf was most likely to be. As he walked, he slid his hands down onto his thighs, feeling the contraction of his muscles. What he felt wasn’t real, but he couldn’t help but experience the surge of longing and remorse as he felt the muscles work—muscles that were, in the real world, useless and wasting away. But he couldn’t let himself regret what had happened. He’d been shot saving Tala. After Rhys had dumped her in the middle of the clearing, he’d seen no other way to save her life other than shielding her from the gunfire using his own body. Would he switch back, if he had the chance? Exchange his useless legs for Tala’s life? His sister had done some bad things, but he wouldn’t have even contemplated doing such a thing. Not only would his little sister be dead, but he’d have broken his father’s heart.