Until she came up with a plan that didn’t include plastering missing-person posters of her Veniri infant all over the state, she needed to keep herself busy. The best solution she could come up with to keep her roiling grief and despair at bay was getting involved in the community, cleaning up the devastation of the attack. Violet had received many hugs and condolences from her Maple Shire neighbors, and most of the children would give her flowers when she’d cross paths with them. As far as everyone else knew, Solace had sadly been an innocent victim in Macie’s “gang war attack.” A little memorial for Solace had been placed near where Skye and Cruz were buried, but Violet couldn’t bring herself to go see it.
The outdoor pavilion had become the new eating area for everyone. It housed about ten banquet tables with bench seating, carved from trees from the bordering forest. The area was usually reserved for weddings and other celebrations, but since the attack, the community families had banded together to contribute potluck dinners, baked goods, and homegrown produce, ensuring everyone was looked after and provided for.
Two days after waking up from her coma, Violet noticed how hard it was to track down Autumn. Her larger-than-life, dreadlocked friend had become a ghost. At breakfast, Violet caught sight of her snatching food from the buffet table. She called her name over the noisy morning conversations, but Autumn made no sign of hearing her before hurrying away.
“Give her time,” said Lazareth, who was sitting at the same table. “Autumn’s dealing with her grief as best she can. We all deal with grief a little differently.” He wrapped an arm around Gus and hugged his son tight. “She’ll join us when she’s ready.”
After breakfast, Violet wandered around the compound, searching for any task to distract her racing mind. She came across the little building Cruz had built to be Autumn’s computer lab. The curtains were drawn, but light gleamed out of a gap in the fabric.
She stopped just before she knocked on the door. When Lyla died, all Violet had wanted to do was curl up under her blankets and be left alone to mourn. Maybe Lazareth was right and the best thing to do was give Autumn her space. Perhaps Dawn had some jobs for her to do in the meantime.
As she searched the infirmary’s halls for Dawn, a cacophony of chattering, cooing, and crying stopped Violet in her tracks. The door to one of the multi-bed ward rooms was open, and she couldn’t resist poking her head in for a peek. About a dozen cots lined the room’s walls, but only three were occupied, all by women bouncing, nursing, or singing to their babies.
Tears pricked Violet’s eyes; the gaping void in her chest became unbearable. What she wouldn’t give to have her daughter back in her arms.
Dawn stood in the middle of the room, her vintage blonde bob lit up like a halo by the sunlight streaming in through a large window. She gave an exhausted smile when she saw Violet, and gestured for her to enter.
“Hello, Violet. Let me introduce you to Yumiko, Pradhi, and Genevieve.” Dawn gently took the baby from Yumiko and coaxed Violet to have a closer look. “This little guy here is one of our ‘delicate’ patients.”
Violet’s eyes bugged as flickers of iridescent blue began to ripple over the baby’s smooth skin. “Wait . . . is he . . . ?” Before she could utter another word, the baby had completed his transformation.
“Yes, he’s a Veniri.” Dawn nodded and smiled. “In fact, all three of these babies are.”
Pradhi, Yumiko, and Genevieve all shared concerned looks.
“It’s okay,” Dawn reassured them, but only after she’d explained that Violet had also given birth to a Veniri baby did the three mothers’ expressions and postures relax.
“Where’s your child?” Genevieve asked.
“She’s . . .” Violet struggled to hold back the torrent of tears pressing against the backs of her eyes. “She was taken.” Absentmindedly, her fingers brushed against the small bite mark on her hand.
All three mothers shared a wide-eyed look.
“She?” Pradhi asked.
“But that’s impossible,” blurted Yumiko.
“Not impossible,” Dawn said, handing the baby back to his mother.
Violet rocked from one foot to the other as the women gaped at her with mixed expressions of shock and awe.
Genevieve stood up from her bed and came over to Violet. “Would you like to hold him?”
Violet gaped at the precious bundle in Genevieve’s arms. “Are you sure?”
Tucking a lock of wavy auburn hair behind her ear, Genevieve smiled kindly. “He’s just been fed and needs a burping. You’d be giving my arms a rest.”
After hesitating for a few moments, Violet gently took the baby in her arms. Her heart instantly ached; the infant felt about the same size as her own daughter. “I’m guessing he’s about ten weeks old?” she asked, her voice unsteady.
“You’d be correct.” Genevieve climbed back into her bed, visibly exhausted. She snuggled against her pillows and pulled the blankets up. Two of her fingers sported small bandages.
With Genevieve’s permission, Dawn proceeded with a typical vitals check, then marked her findings on the chart at the end of the bed. Violet took a seat in one of the empty chairs and placed the wriggling baby over her shoulder, just as she used to do when burping Solace.
About twenty minutes later, when both mother and child had fallen asleep, Dawn laid a hand on Violet’s shoulder. “Come on, it’s lunchtime.”
Violet and Dawn strolled through the gardens toward the pavilion, crossing paths with several members of the community. A woman herded about half a dozen sheep out of their way, and a group of rowdy kids with swimmers and towels barreled past. The youngest child halted when she saw Violet and ran over to give her a hug and a heartfelt “sorry for your loss.”
“You’re really good with children.” Dawn smiled after the young girl bounding off to catch up with the others.
Violet, unsure how to respond, shoved her hands in her pockets and stepped off the path to make way for a man carrying a large wooden crate. The heavenly aroma of freshly picked strawberries drifted in his wake.
“If you think you’re up to it,” continued Dawn, “I do need an extra hand in the infirmary, especially with Yumiko, Genevieve, and Pradhi. Technically, their presence isn’t a secret, but I’ve been keeping it on the down low. I don’t need medical help, but . . . do you remember when I told you about human women being kidnapped and forcibly impregnated by Veniri?”
Violet grimaced. “Yeah, I remember.”
“Well, I have a friend who works in helping these enslaved women escape their Veniri captors, and she sent Yumiko, Genevieve, and Pradhi to me. Aside from helping them rehabilitate, there’s also some daily assistance they need, with all the diapers, laundry, bottle sterilizations, and—”
“Yes!” exclaimed Violet, a little too loudly. She gave Dawn a sheepish smile, then at a more suitable volume, added, “Yes, I’d love to help out. With whatever the mothers or their babies need.”
“Are you sure? Because I wouldn’t want you to feel—”
“I’m sure. Don’t worry about me. I just want to help.”
Dawn studied her for several seconds, her gaze analyzing but kind. Finally, she nodded and laid a hand on Violet’s shoulder. “Thank you. You know, it’s funny, all the mothers are suffering from the same flulike symptoms you did, and just like you, they acquired them not long after their child was born. I wonder if it has something to do with . . .” Dawn stared off into space and tapped a finger against her lips, then paused and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m sure the last thing you need is me babbling on about some kind of medical anomaly regarding inter-shifter pregnancies.”
“It’s fine. I don’t mind.” Violet did her best to give Dawn a reassuring smile.
She startled Violet by pulling her into a swift, sudden hug. “Thank you, even though I know you’re not fine. Thank you for your help today.” She kissed Violet on top of her head. “Let’s find the others and get some lunch.”
The pavilion was buz
zing with people by the time they arrived. Violet paused at the bottom step of the wooden platform. “You go on ahead. I’ll have lunch back at the house.”
Dawn’s frown was subtle. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I think I’m a little peopled out at the moment. Maybe I’ll just skip lunch and go straight for a nap.”
“Okay.” Dawn nodded in understanding. “I’ll come and check on you when I’m done.”
Leaving Dawn behind, Violet meandered back through the floral-scented paths and along the edge of the gravel driveway. As she rounded the garden that bordered the house, she stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of an unfamiliar car parked in the driveway. A group of people stood by the car. She spotted Gus and Sagan first.
Then her eyes locked with another familiar face.
Rage tore through her like a hurricane. She sprang forth.
“Violet! Stop!” yelled Sagan.
His words scarcely registered. In a second, she’d reached the group of people and launched into the air. Her victim’s eyes widened a split second before she collided into him. As they crashed to the grass, Violet’s hands wrapped around Thane’s throat.
“Stop!” Someone grabbed her from behind and yanked, breaking her hold on Thane’s neck.
Thane sucked in a gulp of air.
The rage inside Violet boiled over—she was livid he was still breathing. Her fury ignited, to her surprise, quite literally.
Several cries broke out as aquamarine flames burst to life in her hands. They crackled just above her skin but, astonishingly, didn’t burn her.
A cough from Thane recaptured her attention.
She grabbed the hands on her waist that were dragging her back, away from Thane. Instantly a man screamed, and the hands disappeared.
Thane sat up, clutching at his throat, heaving in lungfuls of air, but Violet immediately tackled him back to the ground. She punched his face. Again and again. Left fist, right fist.
More yelling erupted behind her.
Thane’s shock had worn off. His eyes bore into hers, her flames reflected in his golden-brown eyes, but he didn’t even try to block her pummeling. He wouldn’t fight her. He would probably even allow her to kill him.
She hated him even more for it.
“VIOLET! DON’T!”
Something solid crashed into her side and sent her rolling over the grass. Breathing hard, she scrambled to her feet.
Sagan, the one who had tackled her, jumped up too. He eyed her burning hands and backed away, careful to keep himself between her and the man she desperately wanted to tear apart. Thane had managed to half sit up, his hand still wrapped around his throat.
“Violet?”
She snapped her head toward the voice, recognizing that calming tone.
Nathan.
Bitter betrayal slammed into her.
At the same moment, stabbing pain tore at her flesh from the inside.
A guttural scream ripped through Violet’s vocal cords. She threw her head back and writhed, searching in vain for relief, blinded by the endless torment. Panic quickly chased away her remaining anger. What’s going on? What’s happening to me?
When the agony finally began to fade, something glittered in her periphery. She held up her arms and gaped at the texture of her iridescent magenta flesh—no, not flesh. Scales. Foot-long crystal shards protruded from her elbows, and even more jutted up elsewhere on her body: her shoulders, torso, legs. Her clothes hung off her body in tatters, torn to shreds by the crystal spires.
“What’s happening to me?” Violet’s voice cracked as cold fear constricted her lungs. She glanced at the onlookers, but they answered only with wide, shocked eyes and small gasps.
No one said anything.
A tingle under her tongue appeared with overwhelming force. Then, like a whip, a forked tongue lashed out of her mouth. An alarming number of vibrant flavors engulfed her—molasses, pipe tobacco, mint, nutmeg, sour apple, jasmine, ginger, rhubarb. It was all too much. Her hands clamped over her mouth.
Pure terror raced through Violet’s veins.
This wasn’t natural. She wasn’t natural.
Something bit into her chest, and numbness began to trickle through her body. Sagan was pointing what looked like a handgun at her.
She glanced down, expecting to see a bullet wound. Instead, a small metal dart was embedded in her scales below her sternum. Fury began to boil inside her again as the numbness continued to spread, paralyzing every limb until she had no choice but to fall to the ground. Within seconds, Violet was completely immobile.
Faces peered down at her. Sagan, Gus, Nathan, Thane, and two strangers all towered over her prone, rigid body.
She tried to scream her fury, to force herself to move. But her lips wouldn’t work; every muscle refused to obey her desperate commands. Nothing, not even a whimper, escaped her.
Gus heaved a deep breath. “Can someone please tell me what the hell just happened?”
8
Itty-Bitty Diamantium-Tipped Needle
“So, what now?” Gus said again. “Nathan?”
“What?” A few silent seconds passed before Nathan tore his eyes away from the paralyzed Violet. “Why are you all looking at me?”
“Uh, maybe because you’re the most experienced in this kind of thing,” said Thane.
“Me? I’ve never seen anything like this. Surely Sagan’s had more experience, with the number of shifters he’s encountered.”
Sagan threw up his hands. “I haven’t seen anything like this before either.”
The room fell back into silence. One by one, everyone’s attention returned to the unmoving girl on the bed.
After Sagan shot Violet with the tranquilizer dart, he, Nathan, Thane, and Tio had carried her through a secluded path to the community’s medical facility, where they’d found a spare bed in a private room. Nika had followed and was now hovering just outside the open door, her dubious glare fixed on Violet.
“We can’t keep her like this,” Gus said, breaking the silence. “We can’t just keep her sedated until we figure out what’s going on.”
“Or can we?” mused Tio.
In answer, Violet’s eyes once again ignited with teal flames.
Gus grimaced. “That’s definitely a no.”
The blue flames sparking in Violet’s eyes set Nathan’s teeth on edge. She shouldn’t be like this. She shouldn’t be incapacitated as if she were a dangerous animal. And she certainly shouldn’t be able to manifest crystal shards, blue flames, or any other shifter attributes. How did this happen? Or rather, who made this happen?
Fury bubbled up in Nathan’s chest until he finally snapped. He rounded on Thane, took a fistful of his shirt, and shoved him up against the wall. “You bit her, didn’t you?” he roared.
With a ferocity Nathan wasn’t expecting, Thane shoved him back, using the momentum to pivot so that Nathan became the one pinned.
“No,” said Thane, his voice a deadly whisper. “I would never. You think I want her to have this life? Or even risk killing her?”
Nathan’s jaw clenched and unclenched as he let Thane’s words sink in.
It was true; a human could become a shifter from a bite. But unlike what happened in the movies, the shifter’s bite was usually too toxic, and the human almost always died. If turning humans was as simple as biting them, his race wouldn’t need to rely on kidnapping and impregnating human women to raise the number of female Veniri.
Nathan saw the truth in Thane’s golden-brown eyes—the gold flecks startlingly bright, almost overpowering the natural brown. With a jolt, Nathan realized he’d known the young Veniri was innocent all along. No, the person who really deserved blame was himself. He’d wanted to keep Violet well away from the shifter world—believed she was safer in her ignorance. But look how badly that had backfired.
“Then if you didn’t bite her, who did?”
“As if I would know,” Thane growled. “I’ve been locked up with you the whole time.”
Thane studied him, testing Nathan’s sincerity with his eyes instead of a lash of his Veniri tongue. Then, with a firm nod, he released him.
“Sheesh,” said Tio after a beat of awkward silence. “For a minute there, I was getting some serious Tempecrest flashbacks. I’m glad everyone’s hearts remained in their chests.”
Gus’s eyebrows skyrocketed. “Tempecrest? What’s that? Actually, come to think of it, who are you?”
Tio chuckled. “Right. Sorry. With all the excitement of Thane getting his ass kicked by your resident flamethrower here, introductions have been neglected.” He patted himself on the chest. “I’m Tio, and you are?”
“Gus.”
Tio raised one hand for a high five. “Put ’er there, Gus.”
Gus stared at Tio’s palm. “Right. What about her?” He turned his attention to Nika.
“Oh, that’s Nika,” said Tio. “Don’t mind her. She’s not one for chitchat. Also, don’t let the cute factor fool you. She’s more of the don’t-feed-after-midnight type.”
Nika glared daggers at him.
“See what I mean?” Tio tilted his head and pointed a finger at Gus. “You know, you kinda look familiar. Have we met before?”
Gus frowned and shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”
“You sure? Because I’m not one to forget a face.”
Nathan ignored the rest of Tio’s continuing babble; he’d had lots of practice during their travels from Tempecrest. Though the journey had been long and tough, following the tricky path Sagan had texted to Nika was vastly preferable to being a slave in the gladiator arena.
At least ten minutes had passed since they’d brought Violet into the ward room, and other than the flames shooting from her eyes, she had yet to show signs of the paralysis wearing off. Even without the flames, Nathan could still see the raging fury in her stare—the frustration and fear.
Flames of Mars (Celestial Shifters Book 2) Page 10
