Avenging Autumn

by Marissa Farrar

  AVENGING AUTUMN

  The Spirit Shifters: Book Five

  Marissa Farrar

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  For my family, always.

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  License Notes

  Publisher’s Note

  Further Reading: Cut Too Deep

  For my family, always.

  Chapter One

  BLAKE WOLFCOLLAR WATCHED in dismay as Dr. Autumn Anderson crumbled.

  It was as if someone had removed the bones from her body, so what was left of her wilted to the floor. The phone, on which she’d just watched her father murdered, dropped from her fingers and thumped to the rug. Autumn covered her face with her hands and a heart breaking wail of anguish tore from her throat.

  The numerous people in the room with them—their friends, relatives, other shifters, the paranormals they had freed, and even the family of two that had been picked up on the side of the road—stared on in horror.

  Spurred by a fresh sob, Peter and Chogan moved to Autumn’s side, crouching to comfort her.

  Blake’s fingers tightened around the armrests of his wheelchair. Never had he been more frustrated to be sitting in the damn thing. It should be him at Autumn’s side right now, bending down to lift her in his arms and hold her against his chest. He’d always been strong and powerful, both as wolf and man, and now he was neither. He shook the thought from his head. This wasn’t about him now. His self-pity would do nothing to help Autumn.

  “Chogan,” he said, addressing his cousin. “Help me.”

  His cousin swung his long hair from his face to turn to Blake. Blake didn’t need to say anything more. Eye contact alone was enough to make Chogan understand what needed to be done.

  Chogan reached out and touched Peter’s shoulder. A silent exchange passed between them. Together, they helped Autumn to her feet, and then Chogan swept her up and carried her over to Blake.

  As though she were a child, she allowed herself to be carried, and Blake reached out his arms for her. Gently, Chogan lowered her into Blake’s lap. Her arms instinctively wound around his neck, and he held her tight against his body as a fresh wave of sobbing took over.

  The others stood around the room, the tension high, lips chewed, arms folded, jaws tight. Autumn had been the one to lead them. The one who had taken charge and made the decisions. Now the person they had all turned to was buried beneath her grief, and none of them quite knew how to react.

  Wenona was the first to speak. “I think I’ll go and make us all some tea.” Without waiting for an answer, the older lady turned from the room and vanished into the kitchen. Within a few seconds, the sound of water running and teacups clinking followed.

  Blake thought he could use something a little stronger than tea.

  Chogan turned to Blake. “What do we do now, Cuz?”

  Blake flicked his gaze to Autumn, trying to tell his cousin that this wasn’t the best time to discuss things, but Chogan was his usual, bullish self.

  He continued, “’Cause I think that bitch is going to get what’s coming to her.”

  Autumn stiffened on Blake’s lap, and uncurled herself. She wiped the tears from her face.

  “I’m going to kill her.” Her voice came out choked, and thick with tears. “I’m going to find that murderous bitch and tear her fucking heart out.”

  “It’s what she wants, Autumn,” said Blake. “She’s done this for a reason, and it isn’t just to get back at you. She wants to hurt you emotionally so you’ll make bad decisions—emotional decisions—and that’s when you’ll be at your weakest.”

  “I don’t care. I want her dead.”

  Chogan began to pace the room, his fist placed inside the palm of his other hand. “Oh, she’ll end up dead, don’t worry. We have your back on this, but you’re not going to be the one who goes after her. You need to leave that to us.”

  Autumn shook her head. “No chance. I want to stare into her eyes as I watch her die, just as she made me do with my father.”

  Her voice broke again, and Blake’s hold on her tightened. He hated to see this amount of pain and anger inside the woman he loved. Her pain hurt him, too, and he would have given anything to take that away from her. But he was stuck inside this damn chair, and he was more of a hindrance than a help. In a previous life, he would have been stood with Chogan, promising to avenge Autumn’s father for her, but instead he was sitting on his ass doing nothing.

  “First we need to find her,” he said.

  “I don’t think that’s going to be hard,” said Chogan. “She wants to be found.”

  “Good,” said Autumn, her tone bitter. “It’ll be even easier to kill her then.”

  Teacups rattled, and Wenona re-entered the room, a massive pot of tea and several teacups balanced on the tray. Beside the teapot stood a small hipflask of brandy.

  “I thought everyone could do with a proper drink,” she said, by way of explanation. She smiled at Blake. “How’s she doing?”

  “I’m okay, Wenona,” Autumn said. “And I’m capable of answering for myself.”

  “Of course you are.”

  Blake’s father, Lakota said, “It’s okay to let others help you sometimes, Autumn. You’ve suffered, and you need time to grieve.”

  “I’ll grieve a lot better when I know that bitch is dead. You don’t know the things she did to me inside the laboratory. But I don’t care about myself. My father was an innocent, and she killed him just to get back at me.”

  “You’re an innocent, too,” the older man said. “You never asked for all of this.”

  “Maybe not, but I could have turned my back on it all. Instead, I worked against her. Perhaps I should have walked away from you all as soon as I knew what you were. At least then my father would still be alive.”

  Mia crouched at Autumn’s side, and Blake was thankful to have her there. “And a lot of other people would be dead,” Mia said. “What about all the shifters you saved from the Chicago facility? What about my brother, Marcus, and Angie and Daisy? I’m so sorry about your dad, Autumn, honey, but remember the good you have done.”

  Peter stepped closer, his hands resting on Mia’s shoulders. “And not to mention the change that’s happened for shifters everywhere. We don’t need to hide who we are anymore, and people who want to become like us are now able to. Yes, we want Vivian dead, but don’t ever regret what you’ve done, Autumn.”

  She sniffed and nodded, and Blake put his arm around her. He wished he could do more to help. He felt useless. More than anything, he wanted to walk again, and not just for himself and his ability to shift. He wanted to heal to help Autumn. Mentally, he promised he would speak to Lakota again to see what more could be done. Even though Lakota had already tried to heal him once, and it hadn’t worked, he wondered if he
had wanted it badly enough. He remembered what his father had said after he’d tried to heal him. ‘Try to keep your faith, Blackened Hawk,’ he’d said. ‘The ways of the spirit world are not always obvious to us at first.” He’d told Blake that his wolf guide might be more concerned with what was in his heart than what was going on with his legs. Shifters should be able to heal. He should be able to come back from this, but his wolf had distanced itself from him, and Blake no longer had the ability to call his guide to him.

  Tea was poured for those who wanted it and straight brandy for those who didn’t. Autumn waved aside the tea and accepted the liquor.

  She lifted her cup. “To my father. He wasn’t perfect, but he didn’t deserve to die. If you can hear me, Dad, wherever you are, I swear I will avenge your death, and bring your body home for a real burial. I’m so sorry I let you down.”

  Blake squeezed her hand, and took a slug of his own drink as he did so. The liquid burned down his throat, making him feel alive. He reached out and touched her hair, his knuckles grazing her cheek.

  “We’ll find his body, Autumn,” he promised. “And we’ll find Vivian, too.”

  She gave a forced smile and nodded. “I know we will.”

  His insides twisted. Despite what she’d said, he couldn’t help but feel she was humoring him. He knew she wouldn’t be doing so intentionally, but really, she must be wondering what help he would be when he was unable to even walk.

  “Before anything else happens,” said Lakota, “you all need to rest. You’ve been through so much, especially those of you who have been through the change, Tala, Mia, and Tocho. I can only imagine what you went through in the city as well.”

  “I’ll take a couch,” said Chogan.

  “The floor is fine for me,” said Sahale.

  “Me, too,” added Tocho.

  “Don’t you want to get back to the reservation?” Blake asked Tocho. “To your family?”

  “I do, but this is important. They’re shifters, too, and they understand that we need to protect what we are.”

  “I’ll get some blankets for everyone.” Wenona hurried out of the room. She seemed to be at her most comfortable when she was busy taking care of people.

  The couples got two of the spare bedrooms—Blake and Autumn, Mia and Peter. Lakota, Tala, and Nadie took the third spare room, with the women sharing the double bed, and Lakota taking the pullout. Marcus and Angie bedded down in the kitchen. Billy wanted to stay with Daisy, so they both cuddled down on the couch while Billy’s mother, Madison, set up on the floor right beneath them.

  Blake and Autumn made their way to the bedroom. Blake closed the door behind them, and, now they were in private, Autumn broke down again. He pulled her into his arms, and then onto his lap, so they both sat in the wheelchair.

  “I just can’t believe he’s gone,” she cried, quietly. “He always kept himself so distant from me, but just knowing he was there to go and visit kind of made things all right. Now he’s gone for good and part of me can’t quite believe it.”

  Blake nodded into her hair. “I felt the same way after my mom died. It took me years to start not expecting to see her walk through the door, or pick me up after school. I’m not sure when it stopped, if it ever has. Even now I get the longing to talk to her, but the pain does get better. I promise.”

  “It’ll never get better if I know Vivian is out there somewhere, ruining people’s lives.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “I know, but Chogan was right. She’s done this to weaken you.”

  “Well, it’s worked.”

  “No, it hasn’t. You might be feeling weak right now, Autumn, but it won’t last. I know you. You’ve taken every situation and used it to grow in strength. Look at everything you’ve done. Vivian Winters won’t break you, Autumn. It would take a lot more than one cold-hearted bitch to do that.”

  “You have too much faith in me.”

  “No,” he said, softly. “I have just the right amount.”

  She turned in his arms and kissed him. He felt as if he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve this beautiful, smart, magical woman who had been dealt such pain to be in his arms, kissing him. But she seemed to need him now. He didn’t understand it—part of him still believed she would be better off with Chogan—but if she needed him, he wouldn’t be the one to let her down.

  Her lips were soft, and salty from her tears. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, and their kisses grew more urgent. Her arms wound around his neck and she pressed her breasts into his chest. He was worried he wouldn’t be able to react to her—the most primal part of him being a man—but to his relief, he felt his groin stir.

  “Autumn, are you sure?”

  “Please,” she breathed against his skin. “If you can, just make me forget about all the bad stuff, if only for a little while.”

  She rose from his lap.

  Blake wheeled himself so he was right next to the bed. Using his upper body strength, he pushed up in the wheelchair with his arms, creating space between his buttocks and the chair, and then shifted himself over onto the bed. It was an awkward, clumsy movement, one he’d not quite yet mastered, but Autumn made no attempt to help him. He knew she understood his need to be as independent as possible. Having her take care of him did nothing for his male ego.

  She’d been so strong for all of them, but for Blake in particular. Even when he’d been at his weakest, believing he had no reason to live, she held him up and brought him through it. Now she was the one who was hurt, and, despite his continued paralysis, he needed to be strong for her. He refused to let her down.

  Blake lay back on the bed. Autumn stripped off her jeans, and then climbed onto the bed with him. She straddled his thighs, and lifted her t-shirt to pull it up and over her head, her blonde curls falling down her back. Blake’s eyes fixed on her as she reached behind her back and unclipped her bra. His breath stuttered. Just like the rest of her, her breasts were beautiful. Autumn took hold of his hand and lifted it to her breast. She was warm and soft, and he found himself reacting just as he always had done.

  Her fingers hooked under the bottom of his t-shirt. Blake propped himself up as she pulled the material up and over his head. Then she started on the button of his jeans, popping it open pulling down the zipper.

  He reached out and stilled her hand. “My legs,” he said. “They’re ... not like they were.”

  He’d been amazed at how quickly his well toned muscle had wasted away. What had once been strong and hard, now felt soft and withered.

  But Autumn shook her head. “I don’t care about your legs, Blake. It’s you I love. You’re here, and you’re alive. We’re together. That’s what counts.”

  She was right. Vanity was a pointless emotion to waste time on.

  Without waiting for him to protest further, Autumn pulled the jeans down, lifting him slightly to get them down his ass, and then lifting her own body to pull them off his legs completely. She paused and stopped to lower her lips to his thighs, her hair brushing his skin, and kissing each of them in turn.

  She slipped her hand beneath his shorts, and her warm fingers curled around his length and brought him back to life. He hadn’t believed he’d ever be able to respond to attention down there again, but respond he did. Within a minute, she’d ridded him of his shorts, quickly followed by her panties, and then she straddled him again and lifted herself above him. Holding him in one hand, she positioned herself above his length, and then slowly lowered herself onto him. Her wet heat surrounded him and held him in a tight glove.

  Blake’s mind swam. Unable to move his hips, he allowed Autumn to ride him. He used his fingers to stimulate her most sensitive spot as she lifted herself up and down. His other hand cupped her breast, his thumb grazing the hardened nipple. Color flushed high in her cheeks, her eyes slipping shut. She looked so sexy, and it had been so long, that he couldn’t hold onto his release for long. But he felt her contract around him, her movements growing more frantic. He bit his lower lip,
pleasure tightening in his balls. She let out a cry and shuddered around him. He squeezed his eyes shut and white sparks flashed behind his eyelids as he emptied himself into her.

  Autumn fell forward, her breasts crushed against his chest, her face buried into his neck. His hands held the soft, warm skin of her back, feeling her diaphragm rise and fall as she caught her breath.

  It was only after he felt damp against his neck that he realized she was crying.

  “Hey,” he said, lifting her chin with his finger so she looked at him with her deep blue eyes, wet with tears. “We’ll find that bitch. We’ll avenge your father.”

  Chapter Two

  MIA HAD BEEN dreaming about running. She ran as she never had before—with long, powerful strides, and an almost supernatural grace through an endless forest. Every sense was alive in a way she’d never experienced before. Her sense of smell picked up on everything, and she discovered there was a code in those scents—a way of conveying information. From creatures, the musk of urine or droppings told her how old an animal was, what type of beast they were, if they were in heat, or possibly injured. She knew exactly how long it had been since they’d passed this way, and how long it would take her to reach them. She could smell the weather on the air—if there was due to be rain, or if a lightning storm was close. Even the trees surrounding her had their own language, as ancient and mystical as time itself, as they buried their roots deeper into the earth and reached their branches to the sky.

  Every sound the forest emanated was distinguishable by her sharp ears. From the scurry in the undergrowth over a mile away, she knew the creature creating the sound was a vole. The whoosh of near-silent wings, and cracking of twigs in the branches of trees overhead, told her an owl had alighted in their foliage. The distant rushing whisper alerted her to the fact a river ran through the forest only a couple of miles away, and the splash of large paws hitting the water told her a bear fished for trout in its rapids.

  Mia had never known it possible to be so alive before. She could run like this forever, and never grow tired.

  But no, she was dreaming, and would have to wake. Her run wouldn’t last, and the euphoric feeling it brought would fade. The real world pulled at her, coaxing her into waking, though she fought against it. She’d rather stay here, in this intoxicating world of scents and sounds. But she felt herself being pulled, her whole soul wilting in disappointment.