Avenging Autumn Page 2

  “Mia?”

  Oh, Peter’s voice!

  Suddenly, waking didn’t seem so bad, and she allowed herself to release the dream and open her eyes.

  Peter’s warm, handsome smile and gray eyes looked down at her. The light filtering through the drapes told her morning had arrived. She didn’t mind releasing her dream when this was what she woke to—the man she loved. But then she realized the dream hadn’t ended, but merely faded. Though her eyes were open and she could feel Peter’s warm body pressed against hers, part of her mind was still with her panther, the big cat hunting in the forest. She could see out of the animal’s eyes, and, if she concentrated hard enough, could still pick up on the scents and sounds that surrounded it, and the sensation of being in another creature’s mind.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked her.

  She smiled. “Good. Strange. Different ... but good.”

  “You’re healed?”

  She glanced down at her naked skin. Her bare breast was barely hidden by the sheet, but her shoulder was exposed. The skin was smooth and creamy, as if the gunshot wound—the shot intended for Autumn—she’d received while standing on the steps of the Chicago government facility had never been there.

  Mia wiggled her shoulder around. No residues of pain alerted her to any deeper injury. “It feels fine. As if it never happened.”

  “And what about the rest of you?” he asked, sliding his body beside hers, propped up on his elbow, head supported by his hand. He reached out and touched her temple. “I mean about what’s happening in here.” Weirdly, he didn’t feel as hot as he had before. Peter’s skin had always burned against hers, as if he were running a fever, but now he simply felt warm.

  It’s because you’re hot too, she told herself. Peter wasn’t the only one running a temperature.

  “Well, I just woke up from the most wonderful dream.”

  He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips. “You know that wasn’t a dream, right?”

  “Yeah, I know, ’cause it’s all still happening.” Her fingers fluttered around the back of her head. “Somewhere back here.”

  “You’ll learn how to control it over time. It’ll always be there, but you’ll be able to zone in and out of what your spirit guide is experiencing. If your guide wants you to know about something, it’ll break through whatever barriers you’ll have naturally put up in order to function like a normal human being.”

  She hugged herself, her skin rippling with goose-bumps. “I’m excited and nervous all at the same time. My future is going to be something I’d never even imagined before.”

  He moved closer, his arm slipping around her small waist to pull her body against his. “And I hope I’ll be in it.”

  “Of course. I can’t think of a future without you.”

  His fingers trailed across the skin of her hip and down around to her bottom. His large hand cupped her rear cheek and pressed her against him. He kissed her again and she smiled against his mouth. She could tell how much he wanted her, his hard length pushing against her stomach. Wrapping her foot around the back of his thigh, she opened herself up to him. A shift in their positions allowed her to guide him between her thighs, and her hold on him tightened as he pressed his hips forward and pushed inside her. Mia gasped as pleasure flooded over her. He filled her so beautifully, completing her, and for the first time her mind focused solely on the sensations running through her body, instead of the other mind that ran through the back of hers.

  Their movements were slow and deep, as connected as two people can be. They were the same now, she and Peter. They were equals, something she’d never truly believed they’d been before.

  Her fingers dug into the solid muscle of his back, pressure in her groin and lower belly building with every thrust. She placed her mouth against the hard ball of his shoulder and sank in her teeth to muffle her cries.

  Her orgasm powered over her and the whole world stopped. She was suspended in the moment, just her and Peter’s bodies joined as though they were one person. He held her tight as he jerked inside her, filling her.

  Sated, they fell back, their breathing slowing as one. Peter rolled toward her and kissed her shoulder.

  A crack of a gunshot made them both sit up. Instantly, Peter was out of bed, pulling on his clothes. “What the hell?”

  Mia followed suit. She wished she had more control over her spirit guide so she could see what was happening outside, but at the moment her connection was weak, and her guide continued to do its own thing.

  “What’s going on?” Peter yelled as he rushed out of the door.

  “Someone knows we’re here,” said Chogan. The other man stood in the open front doorway. Several of the others stood around him. The male shifters, Tocho and Sahale, were running down Wenona’s long gravel driveway, chasing, she assumed, the cause of the gunshots.

  Wenona stepped up onto the porch, a shotgun held in one hand. “I thought I might have got the fucker, but he’s disappeared into the bushes.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Chogan. “We’ll find him. He left something for us.” Mia hadn’t noticed before, but a package sat at his feet.

  Autumn’s voice came from behind them. “What’s that?”

  They all turned to her. She appeared pale and thin in her tank top and jeans. Mia thought she looked like she’d lost more weight overnight, if such a thing were even possible.

  Chogan moved protectively in front of the package. “We’ll check it out first, Autumn. You don’t need to see this.”

  “Yes, I do. I’m going to assume the box has my name written on it.”

  “Chogan is right,” said Mia. “You’ve been through enough.”

  Her lips thinned into a line. “I don’t need to be sheltered.”

  “You don’t need to take the brunt of everything either.”

  She pushed past Mia. “Yes, I do.”

  Chogan looked as though he was considering physically holding Autumn away from the box, but he must have decided it would do no good and stepped aside. Tension filled the air. No one knew what the box would contain, but everyone knew it wouldn’t be something good.

  “Please, Autumn,” Mia tried again, her heart breaking for her friend. Autumn had already been through so much, and she hated to think something was about to add to Autumn’s pain. But her friend ignored her, and everyone else around her.

  Autumn’s focus was solely on the box.

  Chapter Three

  AUTUMN STARED AT the cardboard box sitting at Chogan’s feet on Wenona’s porch. Her stomach had bunched into a tight little knot and she struggled to swallow.

  “Autumn?” Blake’s rough growl came from down the corridor. While she had jumped out of bed at the sound of the gunshot, it had taken him longer to maneuver himself from the bed and into the chair, in which he now sat.

  She turned her face to him. She thought he was about to tell her the same as everyone else, but instead he said, “Open the box if you have to, but prepare yourself for the fact it isn’t going to be something you want to see.”

  She nodded. She knew that already, but was pleased he wasn’t treating her like some kind of invalid. Mentally, she cringed at her own internal choice of words.

  Bending down to the box, she paused. Everyone around her remained silent; even the birds seemed to stop their incessant chattering. Every eye in the place was upon her, but her whole focus was on the box and what it contained.

  Autumn took a breath and reached out. Her hand trembled as her fingers made contact with the cardboard. It was the type of fold-out cardboard box that could be bought at any store.

  A dark spot had appeared on the outside of the box, and her heart lurched, her breath catching afresh. She thought she knew the cause of that spot. It didn’t matter how long she delayed for, she would need to see what was inside. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she ran from this.

  With shaking fingers, she pulled open the folded lid.

  The smell hit her first—a pu
trid, cloying stench, like trash left out in the hot, mid-day sun, or road-kill left to rot. She put the back of her hand across her nose, and flicked open the flaps fully, allowing her to see inside.

  Her whole body froze in shock.

  The hand was curled up like a dead crab in the bottom of the box. The hand had been sliced off at the wrist, the open wound raw like a piece of butchered meat. Blood had soaked through the bottom, and dotted on the sides where the severed wrist must have bumped during transit. The fingers were pale, but there was no mistaking the blunt, masculine nails. Every detail stood out to her, the grey hairs on the back of the fingers, the wrinkles around the knuckles, the lines in the palms. But one detail stood out the most—the gold wedding ring around the fourth finger.

  Despite her mother having died years ago, her father had never removed the ring.

  She didn’t want to have to touch his severed hand, but then chided herself. She had nothing to be frightened of. It was just a part of her father—or at least had been—it couldn’t harm her. It was no more than flesh and blood.

  Tears blurred her eyes and she reached into the box and touched the back of his hand. The skin was cold and hard, and didn’t feel human. She needed two hands to pull off the ring, so she used her other hand to hold the back of his steady while she tugged at the metal. The ring didn’t give way to the finger too easily. He’d worn it for years and the change in the texture of the flesh meant it had sunken in slightly. But Autumn swallowed her revulsion and pulled again, and the ring came loose. She slipped the jewelry off his finger and held the cool metal circle in her grip.

  Warm hands met with her shoulders, making her jump, but then she realized it was Chogan pulling her backward, away from the box.

  “It’s all right,” she said, her voice choked. “I’m all right.”

  “Why would Vivian send that?” said Mia, her hand at her mouth.

  Chogan shook his head. “That woman is one sick puppy.”

  Blake’s deeper voice came from where he’d wheeled himself into the doorway. “That’s an insult to dogs.”

  Mia stepped toward the box. “What’s that?” She pointed to a slip of paper, folded into squares and stuck in plastic to the inside of the top.

  “Looks like our sick puppy sent us a note as well as a severed hand,” said Chogan. He moved forward and reached down and tore the small plastic sleeve from the cardboard. He looked to Autumn and held it out to her. “You want to read it first?”

  Her fingers were still curled around her father’s wedding ring. She shook her head. “No, you do it.”

  Chogan nodded, swept his long hair away from his face, and then tore the plastic and unfolded the piece of paper. It was small—a couple of inches wide by an inch high—and contained only a few lines.

  He read out loud, “Doctor Autumn Anderson, I suspect you already know who the hand used to belong to. Of course, he has no use for it now, but dismembering him and sending him to you, piece by piece, will entertain me. I will keep sending him to you until you find me, and then you can entertain me yourself. Vivian Winters.”

  Chogan folded the note again. “Well, how the hell are we going to find her?”

  Autumn pressed her lips together and steadied herself. She remembered what Blake had said about not responding emotionally, though it was hard. “Vivian is playing a game with me. She’ll have left some way of tracking her, or at least a clue until she sends me her next one. This is her idea of fun.” Autumn didn’t even want to think about what Vivian’s next gift might contain.

  Commotion came from the forests to the south of Wenona’s property. Shouts came, followed by a crashing through the bushes, and branches snapping. Several birds burst up from the undergrowth at the noise.

  Autumn turned toward the noise. Within minutes, a couple of her shifters appeared from between the trunks of the tall pine trees. Between them they held another man—young and with a slender build, with buzzed short hair and a clean jaw.

  “This is the guy who left the package,” yelled Tocho from where he was pushing the new arrival toward the house. “He almost gave us the slip, but of course he didn’t take into account that several of us now have spirit guides to give us extra vision.”

  Anger rose inside her, anger that should have been directed at Vivian, but, in her place, focused on the man who had done Vivian’s dirty work. Autumn’s jaw tightened, her body stiff with unleashed hatred. She left the box and walked down the porch steps toward the man who had delivered her father’s hand. The closer she got, the younger the man appeared. His shoulders hunched, his head ducked into his neck. His face was pale and he shook in Tocho’s grip. She didn’t want this. She wanted someone who would stand up to her so she had someone she could take all her pain and anger out on.

  Tocho and Sahale shoved the man to stand before Autumn. She remembered what she’d thought about Vivian giving them a way to track her.

  “Are you our clue?” she demanded of the new arrival.

  The man’s eyes flicked from side to side, at the big men who stood at her shoulders. “Clue? I don’t know ...”

  “Are you what we’re supposed to use to find out where Vivian Winters is?”

  He shook his head, frantic. “I don’t know where she is! I swear I don’t. I just work for her, and was told to deliver a package here, that’s all.”

  “No, there must be more. Is this what she wants, for us to torture someone else to get more information on her?”

  Chogan stepped forward. “If that’s what she wants, I say we comply.”

  She pressed her lips together. “By torturing an innocent man?”

  “He’s not innocent if he works for Vivian.”

  “Please!” the man begged. “I barely know the woman! She gives orders and we all do as she says.”

  “So you work for a private military company?” Autumn asked.

  He nodded, apparently thankful to be able to tell her something. If Vivian had wanted someone to keep her secrets, Autumn didn’t think she’d chosen the right person.

  “Yeah, I work for WestCorp. We were moved from Chicago a couple of days ago. Most of us have gone home, but a few are working on a private project for Vivian Winters.”

  “What sort of private project?”

  “I don’t know. I’m no one. All I do is make sure perimeters are secure, and protect property. I was asked to run that package, that’s all. I don’t ask questions, I just do as I’m told.”

  Chogan’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe you should start asking a few more questions, or you wouldn’t be delivering a man’s severed hand to his only daughter.”

  His eyes flicked to the ground. “Aww, damn. I figured it was something bad from the smell.” His cheeks flushed, making him appear even younger. “Sorry about that.”

  Autumn arched her eyebrows, incredulous. “Sorry about that? That’s what you say when you run into someone’s car and dent it, or maybe step on someone’s foot. You delivered me my dead father’s hand!”

  He must have realized another apology wasn’t going to cut it. Instead, his lips twisted and he stared down at the ground.

  Chogan’s voice came from over her shoulder. “What are we going to do with him?”

  “Maybe we should turn him,” Tocho suggested. “Bring him over to our side?”

  The man’s eyes widened again. “No! I don’t want to be a freaking animal!”

  “You know what we are then?” Autumn asked.

  “Yes, of course. Everyone knows now. It’s the hottest news to happen, like ... ever!”

  Autumn put her hands on her hips. “So you know what we’re capable of doing to you if you lie to us. We have wolves, and big cats, and some damn huge birds of prey with talons the size of machetes. You can imagine the sort of damage they could cause to someone of your size, and the big cats are just plain mean. I’m sure you’ve seen how domestic cats like to play with mice?” The man’s face drained of color. Autumn continued, “Well, now imagine the cat is more than a hundred times t
hat size, and you are the mouse.”

  He nodded franticly. “I get it! I do! I’ll tell you everything I can.”

  Chogan gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Knock us out.”

  The man released a babble of information. “Vivian has a team of people at a house several hours north of here. She’s working on something to do with the shifters, but I don’t know what.”

  “Does she have laboratories there?” Autumn asked.

  “Not that I know of, but I only patrol the grounds.”

  “Can you take us there?”

  He nodded. “I guess so.”

  A hand touched her arm and she turned to see Chogan and Peter behind her. Chogan jerked his head to one side, and she moved away from Vivian’s guy so they could talk more privately.

  “This is all too easy,” said Chogan, keeping his voice low.

  Peter nodded. “I agree. It’s a set-up. Vivian wants this guy to lead you to her.”

  “Which is exactly why you’re not going to go,” came Blake’s voice.

  Autumn realized he’d wheeled himself down the makeshift ramp placed across one side of the porch steps.

  She shook her head. “You can’t expect me to sit here and wait while some of you race off to confront her. I don’t care if this is a set-up. I want to come face to face with Vivian and end her life once and for all.”

  “What if she ends yours first?” said Chogan.

  “You won’t let that happen. I trust you.”

  “We don’t know enough to promise we can keep you safe,” he replied.

  “She killed my father.” Sudden tears filled her eyes, and she blinked them away. She needed to be strong, at least until Vivian was dead. It was because of Vivian that Blake was in a wheelchair, and so many others had died. She wouldn’t rest until that woman had been dealt with.