by RJ Blain
While I found it unnerving the two males discussed me as though I weren’t there listening to them, I kept my mouth shut. I had questions, but I knew myself well enough to understand once I started asking for clarifications, I’d derail the conversation.
Once Dalton finished, I’d take over and demand answers.
“I gave it to her in a bottle of water. She was having trouble breathing because of smoke inhalation. I was hoping they’d reach us before I needed to act. They would have been several hours too late if I had waited.” Ryan clacked his teeth together. “I had no choice.”
“Your wolf didn’t give you one, did he?”
Ryan shrugged and remained silent.
“All right. So, you performed the ritual and somehow managed to stall her first transformation, which was enough to prevent her death. That explains a few things—when I met her prior to her kidnapping, she didn’t have the scent. I had assumed you had performed the ritual after you had tracked her down.”
I clenched my hands into fists. “It was Harthel.”
“We know. We found out shortly after Ryan went on the hunt for you. One of Ryan’s contacts notified the Inquisition of the situation. You owe him, Ryan. He saved your scrawny ass, pup.”
“I understood the risks.”
“I suspect you did. I’ve been ordered to ask you about your interactions with Harthel.”
Ryan sighed. “My contact saw Harthel’s activities and decided to look into it. When he saw the videos and images, he contacted me. I recognized her, had my guy activate the GPS beacon on Harthel’s phone, and tracked him down. Once I had a fix on him, I called him and made my demands. I gave him the choice of leaving her alive, or I was going to kill him and leave bits of him all across the state. He was going to kill her, so my first concern was driving him away and buying enough time to get to her. She had her first shift sometime after Harthel left but before I arrived.”
“Did you burn the cabin he was holding her at?”
“No. It was already burned when I arrived.”
“Harthel did it?”
Something about the way Ryan tensed worried me, and my nose confirmed his anxiety. My wolf roused. She whined, her uncertainty strengthening with each passing moment.
“Ah,” Dalton said, and I froze when the man’s full attention turned to me. “I was worried that might happen.”
“You smelled it, too?” Ryan whispered.
“I’m going to do you a favor, puppy. My pack’s going to do you a favor, too. None of us are going to mention you willingly performed the ritual when you knew what she might be. You’re going to lie so well no one can scent it on you. Understood?”
“I don’t understand,” I snapped, and at my wolf’s encouragement, I growled.
“What do you remember? All of it, Miss Evans, from after the business meeting until now.”
I shuddered. “The taxi hit the restaurant. After that, it’s a bit of a blur. Harthel meant to get revenge on my father over being fired.”
It was the truth, mostly. I couldn’t bring myself to admit just how afraid I had been.
Drawing a deep breath, I forced myself to face what Harthel had done to me. Words brought it back to life, and I remembered the pain, the chill of the water, and the heat of the flames. “He wanted to hurt my father, so he beat bruises into me. He wanted to make my father suffer. I think he meant for me to drown.”
“When I arrived, the water in the tub was still running,” Ryan confirmed.
Rising to his feet, Dalton stepped over the Fenerec on the floor, paced to the window, and shifted the curtain to stare outside. “Why?”
“Matia?”
I shrugged. “Why would he want revenge on my father? That’s easy; we fired him. Don’t ask me what Harthel was thinking. I don’t know. He kept me in the shower for a while. I don’t remember him moving me to the tub. Last thing I remember was him stepping on my hands.”
Rage tainted Ryan’s scent. “What do you remember?”
“I woke up in the tub. The cabin had already burned. I climbed out. That was when you found me.”
“You don’t remember the fire?”
I shook my head.
“Typically, fire witches don’t start manifesting flame without warning signs.” Dalton approached, leaned over, and looked me in the eyes. I leaned back, holding my breath.
“Back off,” Ryan growled.
Panic and fear seared through me, scorching through my head as my wolf reacted to the promise of violence in Ryan’s posture. With a snarl, I slid my way between Ryan and Dalton, baring my teeth at my wolf’s demand.
Instead of the anger I expected, Dalton laughed. “All right. Don’t worry, Miss Evans. I’m not going to do anything to your male.”
My wolf approved of Dalton’s acknowledgement Ryan was ours, although I wasn’t entirely sure if my wolf wanted him for a mate or meal. Ignoring my hunger had been easier when the four males had first arrived, and I had been uncertain of their intentions.
“Matia?” Ryan’s hand was warm on my arm, and he tugged me back. “It’s not wise to challenge Dalton.”
I whirled, pulling free of Ryan’s hold to face him. With a growl, I snapped my teeth, clacking them together. The action was as much mine as it was my wolf’s, which pleased her more than it did me, although I found it intriguing.
With him, I didn’t need to smile, and we knew it. Instead of stabbing, I would bite, and my wolf reassured me it was the way of the wild and expected of us. My gaze lowered to his throat, and at my wolf’s encouragement, I licked my lips.
Dalton grabbed hold of the back of my neck, startling a yelp out of me. “That’s quite enough, little puppy. You can make Ryan your chew toy later, after we’ve finished talking.”
When I growled, Dalton tightened his hold on me. I was aware of the man’s thumb sliding over my skin before pressing down hard. A faint tingle was the only warning I had before a jolt of electricity zapped down my spine.
My legs refused to work, and when my knees buckled beneath my weight, Ryan caught me, pulling me against him. “Sinclair!”
“Don’t be dramatic, Ryan. She’s recovering from ritual sickness. Perhaps you have forgotten this, but I haven’t, and there’s little as dangerous as a hungry bitch who hasn’t learned to control her instincts yet. Once she’s had something to eat, we can continue our talk.”
All five males joined forces in the kitchen and emptied Ryan’s freezer and refrigerator. Once they demolished those supplies, they plundered an outdoor storage unit, returning with armfuls of packages wrapped in brown paper.
The kitchen wasn’t large enough for five men, but none of them seemed to mind the cramped quarters. If anything, Ryan relaxed in the company of the other males, which pleased my wolf.
I learned two important things about Fenerec from watching them. First, the males looked human, but human men didn’t enjoy such close contact. At first, I wondered if they were all bisexual, but my wolf’s rejection of the idea was so intense it triggered a headache.
Second, food was serious business.
“That much?” I had lost count of the times I had asked.
“It might not be enough,” Dalton replied, giving me the same answer he had before.
“I don’t see how that’s possible.” Every bit of counter was covered in meat, and I spotted a fifty-pound bag of potatoes in the process of being cut up by one of Dalton’s companions, Gavin. Gavin was the most vocal of the other wolves, filling in the quiet with an ongoing commentary regarding politics, something I tried to ignore whenever possible.
Dalton chuckled and washed his hands before worming his way out of the confines of the kitchen, grabbing a mug of coffee on the way. “Fenerec have high metabolisms, Miss Evans. We require a substantially higher caloric intake. Five to ten times the amount of a human. We may look human, but we’re not. That’s part of the reason you were so sick.”
“Five days, and she spent most of it either sound asleep or in the jacuzzi. She didn
’t throw up nearly as much as I expected, but she had a pretty intense fever,” Ryan reported.
I frowned. “When I was in the hospital, the doctor said I had an infection of some sort, but I didn’t ask him about it.”
Dalton pulled a phone from his pocket, dialed a number, and placed a call. “Dalton Sinclair. I need you to pull medical records for Matia Evans. You can probably get the information from her father, Ralph Evans. He’ll cooperate. Give me a call back when you have everything. I’m looking for a diagnosis of an infection from when she was hospitalized following the La Guardia bombing.”
After hanging up, Dalton returned his phone to his pocket. “I was going to wait, but I suppose there’s no point now. Ryan, one of the major reasons your actions are being ignored is because Miss Evans was already on watch by the Inquisition; she’s Fenerec-born. When I met her, the scent was very subtle, so unless you were looking for it, you may have missed it.”
Ryan straightened, his eyes widening. “I had.”
“Your wolf probably picked up on the scent even if you hadn’t.” Dalton sounded amused. “Poor puppy, you were helpless from the start.”
“I’m what?” I blurted. “What are you talking about? What scent?”
“At least one of your parents is a Fenerec,” Dalton answered, his eyes brightening as his wolf showed through. “Depending on circumstances, Fenerec-born are sometimes initiated into the Inquisition at an early age, or they are left in the dark. You were left in the dark to allow you a chance to lead a normal life. Of course, you have made yourself exceptional on your own, but that doesn’t surprise me. Fenerec-born aren’t fully human, although they aren’t Fenerec, either.”
“One of my parents was a Fenerec?” I shivered from more than the cold, and my wolf was both intrigued and concerned. “Does Dad know this?”
“He knows. The Inquisition tries to be careful in its selection of homes for Fenerec-born children. Fenerec can be volatile. When a Fenerec’s mate dies, it can have dire consequences. Some go mad and have to be put down. Your father is also Fenerec-born, and he volunteered.”
“I know. He killed my mother.” It hurt saying the words, but I had come to terms with the truth long ago.
Dad had defeated his shadows over the years, and I had never been able to truly blame him for what he had done. He had paid for my mother’s life with his own.
“It doesn’t bother you?” Dalton sipped his coffee and watched me.
I scowled, wondering why the discussion had turned so personal. Without a reason to hide the truth, I sighed and shrugged. “Why would it bother me? Most drunk drivers just go on with their lives. Some get someone else killed. Dad? He’s spent my entire life trying to undo what he had done. He doesn’t drink anymore. He doesn’t even drive—doesn’t have a license. I can’t get one. He made a mistake, and it cost my mother her life, but he took me in. It’s not like I remember my mother or father—my birth ones, that is.”
“You can’t get a license?” Dalton demanded. “Why not?”
Another sigh slipped out of me, and I tapped my temple with a finger. “Brain damage from the accident. I’m monochromatic.”
“Monochromatic,” Dalton echoed.
“Completely colorblind. Since I can’t distinguish color, I can’t be licensed to drive.”
The Fenerec males exchanged long, silent looks. Dalton stared at Ryan before facing me once more. “The process of becoming a Fenerec should resolve any physical problems.”
“What?”
“I mean you shouldn’t be colorblind any more if it was caused by an injury. Of course, it might be a gradual return of sight since it is an older injury, but by the time you’ve finished transitioning, you probably won’t even have any scars. We have extraordinary healing abilities.”
A chill ran through me. “That’s impossible.”
Dalton’s brows rose. “You readily accept you can become a wolf, but you have a problem believing your colorblindness can be cured?”
Taken aback by the realization Dalton was right, I sat back, frowned, and wondered if I dared to hope my colorblindness could be cured. When morning came and the sun lit the world, would I finally be able to see color?
What would I do if I couldn’t?
Hope was a dangerous thing.
Chapter Fifteen
It was the coffee maker’s bright light that frayed my last nerve. I glared at it and growled, fighting against the urge to break the damned thing for catching my attention all the time. Whenever I caught a glimpse of it out of the corner of my eye, it distracted me.
“What’s bothering you?” Ryan poured a mug of coffee and set it on the counter beside me. “It won’t be much longer for dinner. Well, breakfast at this point.”
The coffee helped, and I forced my attention to the dark brew.
“Too much change at one time,” Dalton stated.
I glanced at the man, who had taken over the entirety of the couch as though he owned the place. Instead of answering him, I sipped my coffee and reminded myself an Evans woman was above stabbing someone. It took every bit of my willpower to force a smile. “Sorry. The light’s bothering me.”
Ryan turned to his coffee maker and frowned. “What’s wrong with it?”
“I’d say don’t come between a man and his coffee, but I’m not volunteering to stop her if she decides to wreck it.” Dalton laughed. “Annoyed bitches are truly a force to be feared. No one wants to face off against an annoyed, hungry bitch. You could have just tossed one of the steaks in the pan and given her something to chew on while waiting for the rest.”
While my wolf thought biting was far superior to stabbing, she wanted to act, and I took deep breaths until I could speak without growling. “It’s just too bright.”
“We Fenerec do have sensitive eyes,” Ryan acknowledged. “You need to get used to it. It’s important we hide our nature from the Normals. It’s not uncommon to have problems with the transition. The scents alone can be overwhelming. I had trouble with the changes in taste. Before I became a Fenerec, I really liked spicy food. Now I have to be far more careful with it. What humans perceive as hot is pretty rough on a Fenerec.”
“Good to know,” I grumbled.
Dalton grunted, lurched off the couch, and came into the kitchen, grabbing a mug and pouring himself a cup of coffee. “It’s red. The light’s red, and it’s an obnoxiously bright one at that. With our ability to see in the dark, bright lights are an annoyance at the best of times.”
Red was the color of blood, which had always seemed like a darker gray to me. How could something so dark seem so bright? I narrowed my eyes. Was it the intensity of the light bothering me, or was there red lurking in the illumination?
Gray was gray until it wasn’t anymore, and I doubted what my eyes were trying to tell me. Was I seeing red, or did I just want to see red so much the light came across as too bright, too something to fit in the world I knew?
Ryan pulled out his phone, tapped at the screen, and made thoughtful noises.
“What are you looking up, Ryan?” Dalton leaned over to look at the screen.
“You’ll see.” Leaning away from the other Fenerec, Ryan turned his phone so it faced me. “What do you see?”
I frowned, took the phone from him, and stared at the picture of a fruit stand. It never ceased to amaze me how many different shades of gray were in fruits and vegetables. Something in the lower corner drew my eye.
Grays were gray until they weren’t anymore, and I had no idea what I was looking at, but it wasn’t gray, it wasn’t white, and it wasn’t black, either. Ryan’s phone slipped out of my numb fingers.
Dalton caught it before it hit the tiles.
“Yellow and green peppers with a single red one in the corner,” Ryan reported, and I heard smug satisfaction in his tone. “It’s red, Matia. You’re seeing the color red.”
“But that’s impossible,” I whispered.
The Fenerec laughed, and Dalton clapped my shoulder hard enough to stagge
r me. “You’ll just have to get used to it.”
All of my life, red had been gray, and I had a difficult time figuring out what exactly red was despite my eyes telling me the color wasn’t gray. It was bright, and it was different, and I struggled to make sense of it. My wolf was just as confused about the color as I was, which didn’t help matters for me any.
What else was the darkness hiding? What would I see when the sun finally rose? Excitement, hope, and dread warred within me, and I found it difficult to tear my gaze away from the coffee maker’s light.
What if Ryan was wrong?
What if he was right?
“I’m going to turn it off if you don’t eat,” Ryan warned, nudging me with his elbow. “Eat. You’ve gone too long without a good meal.”
The entire kitchen was overrun with food, and the other Fenerec were tearing into the meal like it was their last. I hungered, but it was hard to focus my attention on my plate with my dream of seeing a world in color almost in my reach.
“I’ll unplug the maker until she’s eaten enough,” Dalton said, pausing in his feeding frenzy long enough to pull the cord.
I scowled at the darkened display.
“I’ll turn it back on once you’ve eaten. The sun’ll be up soon, and we can do some vision tests to see how your sight is coming along.” Ryan put my fork into my hand. “This can be your first lesson about Fenerec in groups. We’re not in a pack, and our guests are in a pack. In situations like this, it’s best if there are no hungry Fenerec. Hungry Fenerec operate on instinct, and hungry Fenerec hunt. Let’s not prey on our guests.”
“Fenerec prey on each other?” A chill ran through me. “Are you serious?”
“Not like that; we aren’t cannibals. We do, however, get territorial when hungry. You’re still recovering from ritual sickness, so those instincts are starting to come to the forefront. It isn’t uncommon for fights to break out between rival packs. It’s one of the reasons I’m an authorized rogue. I don’t get into fights with the locals—not usually.”
