Saving Autumn (8 page)

He shook his head. “I don’t think so. This is less of a protest and more just people causing trouble. That must be why they’ve called in the mounted police, to try to contain the mob.”

“So none of those are horse-shifters then,” she said, thinking they needed something on their side.

“Not that I know of.” There was a low growl to his tone. “Shifters tend to be more … predatory.”

For the first time, she glimpsed something dangerous about the man and a delicious shiver ran through her. But she didn’t have time to wallow in the sensation. Bodies were forced closer to their waiting car, pressing up against the windows. She began to feel claustrophobic, and her heart rate increased, her palms beginning to sweat.

A couple of youths turned to them through the windshield, acne-scarred faces pressed up against the glass, grinning with glee, hyped on the excitement. They began to rock the car, causing Mia and Peter to bounce up and down in their seats.

“Hey!” Peter yelled. “Get the hell away from here.”

Mia bit down a shriek and clutched the dashboard, her knuckles white.

“Screw this.” Peter reached for the door handle. “I’ll show them exactly what they should be afraid of.”

“No! Don’t.” She knew what he’d been planning. “They don’t know about you yet. Remember that Toby never found your name associated with the shifters. That’s the one advantage you have right now.”

He paused as if torn between wanting to go out there and listening to Mia’s advice.

Mia’s hand on his arm stopped him. “Please, Peter. Think about this.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly, though his face was still tightened in anger. The youths surrounding them got bored and wandered off to find their next victim.

A shifter seemed to appear from nowhere. The sight of a giant, snarling wolf heading toward them sent the horses into distress. Whinnying, their eyes rolled in their heads, ears flat against their skulls. The horses began to foam at the mouth, their riders trying to keep control as the animals fought between their training and their natural instinct to bolt.

“What’s he doing?” asked Mia in alarm. “Why doesn’t the wolf leave them alone?”

Peter pressed his lips together, slowly shaking his head. “Not all shifters are good, Mia. Looks to me like this guy is just out to cause trouble.”

A shot cracked through the air and several people shrieked. A bloom of blood appeared on the wolf’s flank. The animal snarled and snapped, and a couple of the police horses reared, eyes rolling to show the whites. One of the officers lost his seat and fell to the ground, the horse trampling him with its hind hooves.

“Oh, God!” Mia cried, one hand covering her face, not wanting to look, but unable to completely tear her eyes away. She caught sight of someone else with blood pouring down their forehead, and another person clutching their arm to their chest. More gun shots went off, and she struggled to pinpoint the direction they came from. The wolf took off, the crowd separating like Moses parting the Red Sea to allow the beast through. Red droplets of blood splattered those nearest as the animal ran.

Peter studied Mia, a grim expression of determination settling over his face. “Right. I promised your father I’d take care of you. I’m getting you out of here.” He grabbed the gear shift and shoved the car into reverse. He drove back slowly, the big car pushing through the crowd. When the crowd grew too dense, he changed direction, putting the car into first and moving forward again, the wheel twisted fully to the right. He repeated the process—reverse, forward, reverse, forward—until he’d managed to turn the car around, and finally drove away from the violence.

Chapter Eight

AUTUMN HAD WAITED in the car for Blake as long as she’d dared, not wanting to give up on him, while also not wanting to call attention to herself. In the end, she’d come to the conclusion that he wasn’t coming back, so she’d started the rental car back up and begun to drive, on hyper-alert for any more signs of trouble. Things seemed to have calmed down somewhat—the arrival of the huge animals had sent the protesters scattering, probably to another part of the city—but she’d still seen the remnants of the trouble everywhere she looked. Plus, the atmosphere was strained, a tension that hadn’t existed a few days earlier. People seemed to have realized the world was less predictable than they’d believed and were preparing themselves for a change in their reality.

When Mia had called, Autumn had just reached Blake’s apartment and let herself in through the hidden door at the back that he’d shown her the first time she’d been there. She’d not wanted to come across as a weepy woman, but upon entering the big, loft-style space, her breath had hitched in her chest, hoping she’d find Blake waiting for her. But the place had been empty and her stomach dipped in disappointment. Then her phone rang. She’d been so quick to answer she hadn’t even glanced at the display, just assuming it was him. It hadn’t been. Once she’d explained to Mia what was going on and hung up, she’d noticed the numerous missed calls and cursed herself for not having heard her phone over the din of the riot. But when she checked, she found they’d all come from the same number. Blake hadn’t called.

Where was he?

Movement came from behind, and she spun, her heart lurching up her throat. Blake’s huge form entered the building, and she had to suppress a smile at the clothes he wore—a tiny, too-tight t-shirt and a pair of pants he’d not even been able to fasten. He looked as though he should be frequenting some of the certain kind of bars downtown. But even the sight of him didn’t quell the worry that had been bubbling inside her for the past couple of hours, and the hint of a smile quickly vanished from her mouth.

“Where have you been?” she snapped, her anxiety making her sound more fractious than she felt.

He frowned. “You know where I’ve been. You were there.”

“I saw you dragging that lioness shifter off. I don’t know where you went after that. I waited for you for ages!”

“We both needed to shift back. I had to ask her some questions.”

They would have been naked together, she realized, ugly jealousy twisting her insides like a cloth being rung out.

“I didn’t think you were the type of person to just abandon a woman in the middle of a riot.” Her mixed feelings were causing words to spill from her mouth that
she would normally keep to herself. She suddenly felt exposed, vulnerable. As though she’d ripped open her own skin and uncovered her soft insides.

“And I didn’t realize you needed protecting, Autumn. You’ve always told me you didn’t need me to look after you.”

“Yes, I know, but …” She stumbled over her words. How could she say ‘I feel like you chose a strange female shifter over me’ without sounding like a whining woman?

“But nothing. I did what I had to do. I’ve had enough of pretending about who I am and letting others get hurt.”

“Does that mean you support Chogan’s point of view?”

“No, but the damage has already been done. All I can hope for now is to limit the fallout.”

He ran a hand over his head and began to pace back and forth across the floor of his apartment. Autumn was glad they were here instead of at her place. At least there was space for this six-foot-four brooding shifter in his converted warehouse apartment.

“I have to find Chogan. He’s at the heart of all this. He’s riling people up
, and this is only going to end in bloodshed. If the Government gets involved, they’ll start rounding shifters up like we’re some kind of disease outbreak that needs to be contained.”

“But you’ve already searched the city and there’s been no sign of him.”

“The lion-shifter I helped today has seen him. She confirmed that he headed up the meeting where the shooting took place last night. She also told me Tala was with him.”

“Your sister? What’s she doing there?”

“That’s what I intend on finding out. I need to go back to the reservation, see if anyone there has any idea about what Tala wants with Chogan, and where they might be.”

She could sense him withdraw from her mentally. The reservation had a lot of bad memories for Blake after he’d lost his childhood sweetheart and was betrayed by his cousin. Going back again wouldn’t be easy for him. He would need her support.

“So when do we go?”

But Blake shook his head. “I don’t think you should come. I’ll be faster without you, and besides, I think people will be more open with me if I’m alone.”

His words stung. For the second time that day, she felt as though he was pushing her away. “You mean if you’re not with an outsider.”

He had the grace to at least look uncomfortable
, his gaze shifting to the floor.

Despite the bloodline she was apparently from—though she’d still not managed to confirm it scientifically—what she could do? She was still an outsider in the eyes of his people.

She pushed away the hurt she felt at his wanting to leave her side once more. If she had things her way, she wouldn’t want to leave him for a second.
Stop being a stupid little girl
, she scolded herself.
He has far bigger things to worry about than your silly, romantic notions.

“How long will you be gone?” she asked.

His brow furrowed. “No more than twenty-four hours, I wouldn’t think. Depends on what I find when I get there.”

“He might be sitting at home with
Tala, minding their business,” she said hopefully.

His eyebrow lifted. “You think?”

She gave a wry smile. “I guess that’s pretty unlikely.”

“You can say that again.”

Chapter Nine

THE NEWS STUDIO
the redheaded reporter, Annabel Christie, worked at was located on North Michigan Avenue downtown. Chogan went directly to the studio, ignoring the growl in his stomach that still demanded pancakes. A fire burned inside him, and he couldn’t ignore it.

Another thing he couldn’t ignore was the state of the city.
Cars had their windshields smashed in, the hoods battered for no apparent reason. Shop windows were cracked and broken, the owners forced to close up for the day.

Chogan
kicked at a discarded homemade sign that read
Say No to Freaks
. Despite the destruction, or perhaps because of it, the city seemed quieter than he’d normally expect in the middle of the day, as if people had been expecting trouble and stayed home. The only people he saw were groups of young men who seemed out to cause trouble, yelling and throwing things.

He
lifted his chin and threw back his shoulders, deliberately creating a don’t-fuck-with-me stance. The last thing he needed right now was to get caught up in some fist fight with a couple of punks.

Near the news building,
the atmosphere changed. As he reached the building, smartly-dressed men and women flitted in and out of the big glass doors. When the rest of the city either caused chaos or hid away, the news appeared to be busier than ever.

Chogan approached, aware he looked out of place in his denim jeans, leather jacket
, and long hair, but he didn’t intend on buying a suit now. Considering the number of times he shifted, he only ended up ruining any decent clothes he owned.

A sec
urity guard sat at a desk, manning the entrance. Chogan briefly considered ignoring him and barging through to find the location of Annabel Christie’s office himself, if she even warranted her own office rather than just a desk. But he figured if he wanted to bring things into the open, he needed to do things the civilized way.

He appro
ached the man on the desk. “Hey, I need to see Annabel Christie.”

The man
looked up at him with narrowed-eyed suspicion. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but she’ll want to see me. Tell her it’s Chogan
Pallaton.” He flashed a grin that was intentionally wolfish. He couldn’t help himself. “The wolf.”

The man’s eyes widened and he sat back in his chair. Without another word, he lifted the receiver of the phone on his desk and hit a couple of buttons. “Ms
. Christie, you might want to get down here. There’s a certain ... man ... here for you.”

He set the receiver down. “She’ll be right down.”

Chogan smiled again, though he knew the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “Thank you so much.”

He took a seat on a narrow
, foam-filled couch in the lobby. Within minutes, the elevator doors at the back of the building opened and the redhead stepped out. She wore a navy pantsuit, an outfit chosen, he suspected, to get her noticed for her reporting skills instead of her looks. In a way, he was pleased. This was sure to be a report that would draw most of the city and guaranteed to boost her career.

“Chogan,” she said with a guarded smile. “It’s good to see you again.” He got to his feet
, and she reached out and shook his hand, firm and warm, though not as warm as his. “I had been wondering where you’d gotten to. I’d been hoping to do a follow-up on the other day. Your appearance has certainly had an impact on the city, not that it’s all been good.”

He nodded. “I know. That’s why I’m here. I made a mistake with what I did. It was too much for people to take
, and the violence and mess out there,” he gestured to the doors and the outside world, “is because people are frightened. I want to make things right.”

“So you’d be willing to go on air again? Perhaps this
time in an interview situation?”

“Sure. That’s what I’m here for.”

She smiled at the security guard who’d been watching them with an open mouth. “Thanks, Matt,” she said. “I’ll take things from here.”

Chogan followed her, not to the elevator this time, but through a set of doors
to their right and down a corridor.

“I just need to make a call. Find out
if I can get you in as breaking news.” She whipped a cell from her jacket pocket and stepped out of what she assumed to be earshot, though with Chogan’s shifter hearing, he caught every word.

“Margret, it’s Annabel
... I don’t care if he’s in a meeting, just put me through to him.” There was a pause, then she said, “Chogan Pallaton has finally shown up ... Yes, he’s here now ... He’s willing to go back on air, let me run him through some questions ...”

Chogan studied some framed awards on the wall, trying to pretend he couldn’t hear.

“I know what they said.” She lowered her voice to a hissed whisper. “I’ll do whatever is necessary.” Then she hung up.

He didn’
t like the sound of that. He tried to approach casually, hands in his leather jacket pockets. “What’s necessary?”

“Sorry?”
She turned to him, her cheeks pink, flustered.

“You said,
‘I’ll do whatever is necessary.’” He flashed his most charming smile. “Sorry, couldn’t help over hearing.”

“Oh
, right. To get the story out. I’ll do whatever is necessary to get the story out there.”

He wasn’t totally sure he believed her.

He followed her down a windowless corridor and through another set of doors, into a sparsely furnished space, also without windows. The main items in the room were a couple of huge cameras and overhead booms for sound. A couple of guys fiddled around with the equipment. Someone carrying a small chest with a handle rushed over to Annabel and shooed her toward the set of stools in front of the cameras. The woman opened the box and began to powder the reporter’s face.

The woman from makeup turned to Chogan. He lifted both hands and shook his head
, his eyebrows drawing together in amusement. “I don’t think so.”

The fussing came to a stop and everyone positioned themselves; Chogan sat opposite Annabel on the stools, the camera and sound men behind their equipment. Within seconds, a man Chogan recognized from his previous appearance threw open the doors to the studio and strode in. He didn’t even acknowledge Chogan, focusing all his attention on the reporter beside him.

“You better make this worth my time, Annabel,” the producer snapped. “Make it good.” He lifted a hand and began to count, “Five ... Four ... Three ...” He fell silent, mouthing the last two numbers before bringing his hand down to start the cameras rolling.

Annabel Christie
faced the camera with a neutral expression and addressed the viewers beyond. “Many of you will recognize the man sitting beside me as the same man who, somewhat unbelievably, turned into a wolf on this very news channel. His change has been met with disbelief and fear. I can say to those disbelievers, what happened was real.” She turned to him. “Chogan Pallaton. Can you tell me your reason for wanting to appear on television again?”

He took a steady breath and began.
“I want people to realize that we’re not monsters. We’re creatures more aligned with the spiritual world than any other. You have no reason to fear us. Most of us have family who are fully human. We don’t hate humans, we simply want to be recognized as a being in our own right.”

“You say we have no reason to fear you?”

He nodded. “That’s right.”

“Then how do you explain these clips? They were recorded earlier this morning on a number of different cell phones and sent into the studio.”

A small screen was already in front of the stools where they sat, something he assumed was normally used for autocue. Images appeared, remarkably clear for cell phone footage. He stomach churned. He wasn’t the only person seeing this. The footage would be going out to thousands.

A huge lion bounded down the street toward a group of people, rearing up onto her hind legs and swiping at the signs they were holding. Chogan was unable to read what was written upon the sign, the lion’s body blocked the way, but he assumed it was something similar to the one he’d kicked on
the street. The image changed and he heard a muffled shouting. The phone was lifted upward to record a massive owl plummeting from the sky, talons outstretched. People screamed. The shot changed again, this time capturing a giant silver wolf snapping and snarling.

A shot of recognition made him sit back.
Blake!
What was he doing getting involved in a public situation? That wasn’t his style at all.

“I’m sure they were provoked,” he said, perfectly aware of how lame that sounded.

“So you think it’s okay for ... what do you call yourselves? Shifters? To use your obvious advantage of size and strength to overpower what was previously a peaceful demonstration.”

“They were inciting hatred.”

“They were simply saying what many have been thinking. Your friends’ actions merely confirmed what everyone has been afraid of.”

“I don’t even know those shifters,” he lied.
Damn! This isn’t going the way I planned at all!

“You don’t know them? So how many of you are out there?”

Chogan shrugged. “I couldn’t say for sure. Maybe one in every one thousand are spirit shifters. Some people don’t even know they have a touch of a spirit guide, they just think they’re particularly observant or have a knack for picking when someone is about to knock on their door or for when a cab is about to come around the corner. They don’t realize they have a spirit guide helping them along the way.”

She smiled, but the expression was hard. He’d thought he had an ally in the pretty redhead, but he’d been wrong. “That’s all sounding a bit fantastical now, isn’t it? Are you saying I could have a spirit guide looking after me?”

He met her gaze, equally cool. “No, not you.”