Saving Autumn Page 11

  His father nodded, his hand at his mouth. “They were always close, even though they fought more like brother and sister than cousins.”

  Chogan had replaced him there then. He wasn’t sure if he should be jealous or grateful. “But Chogan is up to no good. There have already been killings and protests in the city because of what he has stirred up. I don’t want him getting my sister involved as well.”

  “Your sister is a grown woman,” Lakota repeated. “She knows her own mind.”

  “She’s not even a shifter,” he growled. “She has no business in this.”

  He wished he had a cell phone, but not being able to carry a phone most of the time was a problem shifters encountered for the same reason they struggled with finding clothes.

  He was no closer to finding Chogan. But with everything going on back in Chicago, he had a feeling that if he followed trouble, he’d find his cousin. And where he found his cousin, he’d also find his sister.

  Chapter Thirteen

  IN DESPERATION, CHOGAN had called another meeting with the other shifters.

  He kept running the interview with Annabel Christie over in his head, wishing he’d answered differently, that he hadn’t come across so brusque. He should have known he wouldn’t be able to trust a reporter. They would only ever be out to get the most controversial of news stories in order to boost their ratings. He’d had no reason to think Ms. Christie would have been any different.

  Night had fallen once more, and this time he was on high alert for the presence of anyone who shouldn’t have been in this part of the forest. His wolf ran on ahead, hackles raised in anticipation of a fight, ears flat against the animal’s head. Though Chogan was fully aware of his surroundings as he walked, part of his mind was filled with the path up ahead, one he hadn’t seen with his own eyes as of yet. At least the rain had held off tonight, though the fall air was still chilled. He barely noticed, his shifter body heat protecting him against the elements. He stuffed his fists into his leather jacket and walked with purpose between the trees. At this hour, there shouldn’t be any chance of bumping into hikers. The only people he expected to see here were the ones he had invited.

  He reached the abandoned homestead. The windows had been boarded up with plywood, though pieces of broken, jagged glass still poked from the frame. A rickety porch ran around the perimeter of the wooden building, the railing snapped, the fractured pieces of wood sharp and splintered. A sign was positioned at the entrance, warning of the imminent demolition of the building, tape stretched across the entrance to the porch. Chogan ignored it and pushed through, ripping the tape from the porch banister. The sign dropped to the ground. It cracked beneath his foot as he walked across.

  He’d already known he was the first to reach the building. He’d needed to come as a man, not as wolf, purely so he could provide light for everyone to see by. Though his own night vision was excellent, some of the other shifters weren’t as strong, their gifts given to them later in life, making their powers less. He dropped the large rucksack he’d been carrying to the floor and rolled his shoulder to work out the kink. Stooping to the floor, he opened the bag and fished out the large pillar candles he’d brought. He placed them in the corners of the room and took a book of matches from the back pocket of his jeans. The flare of the match lit the room, the smack of sulphur hitting the musty air. He held the match to each individual candle, moving between them until the flame bit at his fingers, and the room began to flick and burn with the light of numerous candles.

  His wolf stayed outside, trotting through the undergrowth, nose to the ground. It stayed alert for any newcomers, and within a few minutes, the crunch of footsteps on the forest floor drew the animal’s attention.

  A series of images appeared in Chogan’s head, and he paused to assess the situation. Heavy black boots, faded jeans, big hands with numerous tattoos climbing up both arms.

  He recognized the man—Rhys, the tiger-shifter who’d been at the first meeting.

  Following close behind were the two shifters Dumas had held captive, Michael and Kasa. The two had clearly struck up a platonic friendship since their ordeal together.

  The shifters entered the cabin, each nodding hello to the other, the atmosphere tense and filled with the promise of change to come.

  More people joined them, the space gradually filling with bodies, their combined heat warming the cabin, despite the chill on the air outside. Chogan spoke to everyone individually, wanting each of them to understand how much he appreciated their presence. The leopard-shifter, Mishca, arrived, moving somewhat more gingerly than normal, but otherwise well, considering her injuries. She’d been unable to go to a regular hospital, but told him Tala had helped to bandage her wounds. By morning, the worst had healed.

  He moved on. As he was speaking to Harry Bernard—it seemed the older man’s opinions had changed after the attack—Tala slipped in and stood at the back. She gave him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

  What was up with his cousin now?

  He gave everyone a few more minutes to reunite, letting a couple of stragglers sneak in the back. He clapped his hands together, drawing everyone’s attention and causing quiet to fall over the group.

  “Thank you, everyone, for coming here today. I know it’s not the easiest place to reach, but I wanted to make sure we were in a place where we’d notice quickly if people were around who weren’t supposed to be here.

  “I’m sure none of you have missed the violence and protests that have erupted in the city over the last couple of days.” A murmur went up. “I felt I had no choice but to try to contradict what people were saying about us, so I went to the reporter who first helped to make our existence public knowledge.”

  “You just like getting your ugly mug on television,” a familiar voice accused, though there was a teasing tone to their voice. Laughter went up, but it was uncertain. He looked around to see who had spoken, his gaze lighting on his old friend from the reservation, Enyeto. He was glad the bear-shifter had made it to the meeting.

  Chogan grinned. “I can’t deny that. But in all seriousness, I did feel that we needed a voice. Things are getting crazy out there, with people making it appear to be us who are the ones causing trouble.”

  “I say we fight back,” shouted Rhys. “There’s what, twenty of us or more? We should do a protest of our own in animal form and scare those motherfuckers so bad they never attempt to say a negative word against us again.”

  A couple of people cheered.

  Chogan scowled. “Then you’d only be enforcing what the humans are saying about us. Making us appear to be no better than animals.”

  “Animals are a hell of a lot better than most people I know,” Harry shouted. A murmur of agreement rose around him.

  “Who the hell made you the leader of this thing, anyway?” Rhys continued with a scowl, his voice loud, obviously not willing to let Chogan override his idea quite so easily.

  Chogan matched the scowl. “This thing was started by me. Before I had the guts to expose who I was, the rest of you stayed hidden. I was the only one with the balls to get the revolution started.”

  “Just because you shifted in public doesn’t automatically make you our leader. We don’t live in a dictatorship. The rest of us have the right to choose.”

  Chogan cocked an eyebrow, trying to hide the fury bubbling within him. Who the hell did this guy think he was? “And you think they would choose you?”

  “I think they should at least have options.”

  Chogan lifted his chin and took in the sight of the group. “Does anyone else want to lead this thing? Rhys? How about you? You seem to have a strong opinion on the matter.”

  The other man’s face was pinched with anger. “I was only pointing out that you don’t get to tell us what to do.”

  “Fine,” Chogan said dismissively. “Well, if no one else wants to volunteer, I suggest we continue.” His gaze swept over the tops of everyone’s heads to direct his attention to his cousin.
“Tala? Did you find out the names of those who attacked us?” Everyone turned around to look at her.

  “Yeah, I did. But I can’t make a connection with anyone here, and I’ve asked around.” She shrugged. “Someone might have let the meeting place slip accidently. I don’t know why you’re always reading into things.”

  What the hell? Her attitude had changed. What happened to ‘consider it done?’ He didn’t want to pull her up in front of everyone, wanting them to appear as a united front.

  He glowered at her. “Let’s hope you’re right.”

  “What about this woman who is supposed to be able to turn humans to shifters?” Tala said, her eyes locked with his, challenging.

  His blood boiled at his cousin. How dare she bring that up again in front of everyone? Autumn’s face appeared in his mind, her name on the tip of his tongue. He was suddenly filled with the bizarre fear that he would blurt her name, revealing her abilities to so many. But he didn’t. He schooled his face into what he hoped was a serene expression.

  “I believe I’ve already said that her existence is merely a rumor. I don’t know exactly who this person is. She may not even exist.”

  Tala’s eyebrows lifted, her lips twisted into a ‘yeah, right’ sneer. But she didn’t challenge him any further.

  He addressed the rest of the group. “Listen to me. We can’t expect for things to change overnight. The first step is having people acknowledge that we are real. The second will be having equal rights as regular humans, the third will be our domination of places of power—the government, the military—and all will be done on our terms. We have to be patient. The rights of African-Americans took years to win, but now, people who would previously have been hated and feared are in the top positions in our government. The same thing will happen for us. It just takes time.”

  “What do you want us to do?” Mischa called out.

  “First of all, think carefully about whether you want to be exposed. Remember, these hate groups can track you down if you go public. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.” He noticed Juanita Romero, the woman who’d said she had children, hadn’t returned. Considering the chaos going down in the city, he didn’t blame her. “Then, if you’re happy to speak out, I want you to contact local papers, speak at your local libraries. Anywhere people will listen to you.”

  “I’ll speak out!” His eyes found the young punk girl, Leah Phelps. “And if anyone tries anything, I’ll kick their ass!” A ripple of laughter floated among them.

  “This isn’t a game, Leah,” he warned. “Some of those people are dangerous.”

  Her pale cheeks flushed. “I know that.”

  “And you must remember to come across as controlled and civilized at all times. Don’t let anyone turn you into the thing they think you are—the thing deep down they probably want you to be. A monster.”

  He looked back across the crowd to make sure everyone was listening. Two people seemed more involved in each other than anyone else—Rhys and Tala were deep in whispered conversation. Chogan frowned. Tala must have sensed him watching her for she glanced away from Rhys and toward him, catching his eye.

  Jesus Christ. Don’t say Tala is interested in that guy! He thought his cousin had better taste. But then she was a grown woman. Who was he to say who she dated, even if the thought did turn his stomach?

  “If any of you need me,” he continued, “don’t hesitate to call. I’ll do everything I can to help you.”

  People began to leave, exchanging handshakes and hugs and promises to be in touch. His cousin stood at the back of the room, her back to them all, staring out of a small part of the broken window that hadn’t been boarded up.

  “You should stay away from Rhys, you know.” She turned toward him at the sound of his voice. “The guy is bad news.”

  To his surprise, she laughed in his face. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Chogan. And you don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t talk to.”

  “I thought you were going to find out a bit more on the people who attacked us,” he said.

  “And I thought you were going to tell me who this bitch is who can change me into a shifter.”

  “I never promised anything. I just said I’d see what I can do.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head. “Don’t mess with me, Chogan. Just because we grew up together doesn’t mean I won’t bring you down if you provoke me.”

  With that, she spun from him and stormed from the building, leaving him feeling as though she had slapped him.

  Everyone else had gone. Chogan stood in the middle of the empty room. He had never felt so alone. A pang of longing filled him, and he realized that at the very core of his soul, he ached to see Autumn. His fingertips itched with a desire to touch the creamy skin of her cheek, to brush her golden hair away from her face. Perhaps he could risk just trying to catch a glimpse of her, to check she was all right.

  What was the worst that could happen?

  Chapter Fourteen

  AUTUMN AND HER father worked in near silence. They’d always been most comfortable together when they’d been involved in work, the dependable and more predictable world of science evening out their usual awkward relationship. Except now, Autumn had to wonder how much of that relationship had been staged by him to try to keep her safe, to get her to keep her distance from him.

  Thankfully, the sample of Blake’s hair had contained enough nuclear DNA at the root to allow them to use the centrifuge to extract the genetic material. Hair was always a tricky sample due to the nature of the hair cells dying to become the horny, tough material which made up the hair strands. The presence of root cells made Autumn suspect that she had grabbed Blake’s short hair and pulled too roughly in a moment of passion. The realization both embarrassed her and filled her with longing.

  It took time to extract the DNA and then isolate the gene they needed, but the hours flew by, both deep in concentration. To save time, Autumn wished she could have had access to the genes Dumas had already isolated, but of course such a thing was impossible. She suspected all of the research would have been destroyed by now. The government would have wanted to protect their backs. Despite the dark ambition that lay beneath Dumas’ research, she couldn’t help feeling a pang of remorse for all that wasted work.

  By the early hours of the morning, they’d isolated the gene. Now, they needed to combine it with human DNA, and add a drop of her blood to act as the catalyst. She held her breath as her father held a pipette of her blood over the combined DNA. This was the moment. Even though she’d seen it happen twice in the government laboratory, if it worked here, she would no longer be able to put down what she’d seen to some kind of external contamination. If the experiment worked, she would have to accept what she was, and what her mother had been—descendants of the originals who created the first ever spirit shifters.

  Her breath held deep in her chest, her gaze glued to the computer monitor, to the sausage-like, X-shaped human chromosomes on screen that had already been spliced with the shifter gene. Blood beaded from the end of the micro-fine glass needle and fell, as if in slow motion, onto the slide.

  The chromosomes began to divide.

  “Oh, crap,” she breathed, exhaling the air she’d been holding.

  Despite everything she’d seen leading up to this moment, a small piece of her had clung to the possibility that the part she’d been playing had been given to the wrong person. But now she couldn’t deny that she was what everyone claimed.

  She turned to her father to find him watching her with a small, sad smile and compassion in his light blue eyes. He pushed his glasses back up his nose. “I hate to say I told you so, honey.”

  She gave a rueful smile. “But you told me so.”

  “Sorry.”

  “So everything you told me was true about Mom. She really was killed.”

  “Murdered,” he corrected.

  “Murdered,” she repeated, barely a whisper, the words sounding as if they
weren’t even coming from her mouth. It was so much to take in.

  Autumn stifled a yawn with the back of her hand and glanced at her watch. She was surprised to find it was almost eight in the morning. They’d worked the whole night through.

  “You can sleep here,” her father offered. “I keep your room made up.”

  She gaped at him. “You do?”

  “Sure. I never knew when the time might arrive when you’d be able to come back to me.”

  She found herself blinking back tears. She’d always found him so stand-offish, a cold, hard father whose only interest was work. Now, she was discovering the softness beneath. She stepped forward and flung her arms around his neck and hugged him tight.

  “Thanks, Dad, but I think I’ll go home. I’m a big girl now.”

  “I know.” It was his turn to blink back tears. “You grew up too fast.”

  In truth, she needed to be in her own space to turn over everything she had learned. Plus, she wanted to be available for Blake, should he return to the city today. If she stayed here, he wouldn’t know where to find her.

  She took half an hour to freshen up in the bathroom and down a cup of coffee which her father made for them both. Then she stepped out onto the street, the diffuse fall sunlight bright against eyes that had spent all night beneath ground. Though her body was tired, her mind still raced. She’d normally grab a cab, but today she just wanted to walk awhile, allow her brain time to unstring itself. Perhaps she’d go via Lakeside and walk along the water. The cool fall wind off the lake was bound to sweep some cobwebs away.

  Autumn huddled into her jacket and stuffed her hands in her pockets to keep them warm. The roads were quieter than normal, but she saw no sign of any more groups of people out to cause trouble. Those who had been involved in last night’s riots were probably now sleeping off the excitement. She felt strangely detached from the world around her, as if she’d been hidden away for far longer than a single night. Perhaps the sensation was simply intense tiredness. Did night shift workers feel the same way when they made their way home from work?