by Lisa Ladew
“I was right behind her in the trees, a dozen yards away. There was a red wolf. Great Cat knows what it was doing that far south, but it had Gemma in its sights. No way was I going to be able to do shit as a human.”
Blossom looked over at him, her eyes wide with understanding. “You shifted? On a school trip?” She lifted one hand to her heart, her eyes fluttering closed for a second. “Shit, Riot. What if they had found out? What if the rangers had shot you?”
Riot shrugged. “They didn’t.” At the time, he hadn’t even considered it. He could still feel the urgency, the adrenaline that had coursed through his system in that horrible moment of realization.
Riot had known he only had seconds to save Gemma, but he’d had the presence of mind to whip off his leather jacket and unfasten his jeans in that time. Then the wolf had attacked.
The wolf was fifty clear feet from Gemma, Riot was forty, but with trees in his way. He’d heard his shirt and underwear rip as he shifted cleanly into his puma mid-stride, heard his boots and jeans hit the marshy ground behind him. He had to make it in time.
The wolf leapt at Gemma. Riot met it in the air, knocking Gemma down, taking a bite to the foreleg that had been meant for her throat. They had rolled through the mud, snarling and snapping at each other, for only seconds before the red wolf had pushed to its feet and run away. Riot chased it for fifty feet, but almost immediately he doubled back to Gemma.
By the time he came close Riot had heard the frantic voices of his classmates coming nearer, coming to help Gemma, and he had made for his ruined clothes instead, and carried them away to thicker brush. The underwear were a total loss, shoved into an inside jacket pocket and thrown away at home. His t-shirt was ripped down the back, but Riot’s jacket covered that. He’d found a small pool and slopped as much mud off his body as he could, then made his way back again to where Gemma had been attacked.
He wasn’t sure what he’d thought he would find, but it hadn’t been much. The spot where the red wolf had been was covered in tracks, as if the animal had been pacing in that spot for a long time, but Riot didn’t scent anything in the area that would explain that behavior. He found Gemma’s notes where they had floated into a still pool and tried to salvage them, but in the end he’d just tucked the paper away with all his other memories and rejoined the rest of his class.
Blossom interjected with affection and relief. “Just like your father. Rescue first, consequences later. You were damn lucky.” Then her face screwed up in confusion. “How did she find out it was you?”
“She never did. On the bus ride home I found out we could never be together.”
His mother gasped. “Baby, why?”
Riot ran his hand through his flop of black hair, trying not to remember the way his chest had ached as he sat in the seat in front of Gemma and listened to her tell the whole story to her friend. The whole story and then some. Riot looked at Blossom with a humorless smile. “She had a phobia of predators. Wanna know why?”
Blossom’s face screwed up in sympathy. “It’s bad?”
Riot sighed. “It’s not good.” He gave the porch swing another push and tried to swallow his feelings down, so he could get the story out. “Gemma’s family was Army, moved around a lot, and her mom’s Japanese, so they spent a lot of time out that way.” Riot remembered how excited he’d been just to hear all the details of Gemma’s life from his spot in front of her. Until her voice had turned small and scared.
“So they’re in China or Malaysia or Thailand, I don’t remember exactly, at a market-type place where there are street performers, and one of them is this guy and his trained lion.” Riot watched the blood drain from Blossom’s face and nodded. Yeah, it’s that kind of bad.
“So here Gemma is, six years old, and she said she just remembered the guy doing the head-in-mouth trick. He’s standing there with his head in the lion’s mouth and he smiles right at Gemma. Right in her eyes. And right then, the lion got tired of that trick.”
Blossom grimaced and closed her eyes. “Oh, no. Poor little Gemma.”
Riot nodded. “Someone shot the lion, too, after they got the handler’s body away from him. Her mom carried her away but Gemma saw the whole thing over her shoulder.”
His mother looked at him, her expression a signature blend of compassion and cautious curiosity. “And she never got over it?”
Riot shrugged. “She did, actually. Years ago.” His heart gave a prideful thump, remembering the reason Gemma had given him for her bravery.
Blossom’s mouth popped open and her eyebrows went up. “I’m impressed.” Then her face fell and she tipped her head. “Sooooo… she’s paying you back for a rescue she doesn’t know was you? What am I missing?”
Riot shook his head. Get it the fuck over with. “I gave up on Gemma after that.” He hadn’t been able to face the possibility of her finding out, being frightened by him. Seeing her scared of him would be worse than never being with her at all.
But by the time graduation came, Riot had rolled his broken heart into a plan to attend trade school to become a mechanic. He couldn’t have Gemma in his life, but he could at least have a life he would have been proud to share with her.
Blossom cut into his memories. “But?”
Riot laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Nothing. Not a damn thing.” He frowned at his mother, sitting beside him, not saying a word. “And then the graduation party. Shit, Ma, I wasn’t even going to go! Shain and I weren’t talking. But I don’t know, I just…” Riot broke off. This next part was fucking weird. But it was true, so he might as well spill it.
“I was sitting at home, watching tv and thinking maybe I’d work on that junker Triumph motorcycle I bought off Duke. But then this feeling started in my gut, Ma, like someone was sticking their fist in and twisting. Fucking Instinct again. I had to go.” The feeling had pushed Riot up and out of the house as fast as his broke-ass Honda motorcycle would carry him. “When I got there it was in full swing already. One of Shain’s buddies caught me as I was walking in, told me Shain had a girl in the back, and did I want a taste?”
Next to him, Blossom erupted in a string of curse words, then looked sideways at Riot with fury still in her eyes. “I know he’s my nephew, but that’s despicable. Evil little shit.” She patted her long salt-and-pepper hair back from her face as she took a calming breath, then waved her hand for Riot to continue. “I’m done now.”
Riot laughed, throwing her a dubious glance. “You sure?”
Blossom gave him the stink-eye with barely a smile. “Don’t push me. You could’ve saved yourself a lot of trouble if you’d told everyone this twelve years ago.”
Riot ground his teeth in grudging acknowledgment. “Problem is, it’s not just my story, it’s Gemma’s.” Blossom made the connection and gasped, and Riot nodded. No way would he have ever gone public. It wasn’t his choice to make.
Chapter 37 - Run Riot
“I didn’t even know she was going to be there.” That had puzzled Riot for years, in fact. Why the hell had Gemma gone to a party at Shain’s house in the first place? How had she even found out about it? And whatever friends she’d presumably gone with, why the fuck hadn’t they done a better job of looking out for her?
Riot swallowed the old confusion and continued. “So I go to the bedroom, and he’s got her on the bed, unconscious.” Riot could still feel the rage that had boiled up inside him, seeing Shain on top of Gemma’s tiny, limp body. “I grabbed Shain off of her and beat the shit out of him. Then I stole his keys and took Gemma home.”
He’d put Gemma in Shain’s car because he couldn’t carry an unconscious passenger on his bike. And then halfway home she’d started to wake up, crying and shaking, thrashing like she was still trying to fight Shain off. Riot hadn’t known what else to do but to pull over and take her in his arms, hold her tenderly and talk to her in a quiet voice about anything he could think of until she stopped shivering like she was going to fly into a million pieces right in front of him.
Because if that happened, Riot couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t drive back to that house and kill his cousin. So he’d held Gemma, and rocked her, pressed his lips to the crown of her head, and slowly she had settled in his arms. When he looked down next, she had fallen back unconscious.
He’d put her back in the passenger seat and taken her home, where she’d woken enough to make her way to the door without Riot holding her up. He’d walked next to her and waited, ready to help if she needed him, as she’d let herself inside and the lights had gone out. It was all he could do.
His mother spoke quietly beside him. “And Shain got his revenge by stealing from Duke’s and framing you for it.” It wasn't a question.
That was exactly what had happened. “Shain apologized all over himself, swore he’d turned over a new leaf, and like an idiot I believed him. I let him and Faith visit me at work. Never suspected a damn thing.” Hell, he’d even pitied Faith for the desperate way she’d tried to attract Riot’s attention, and had followed her inebriated ass around the store, making sure she didn't hurt herself. In his idealism he'd thought he could show Faith that, even if Riot wasn't interested himself, there were guys out there who would treat her better than Shain did.
Riot sighed and turned to his mom. “How long have you known?”
Blossom shrugged. “I’ve always known there was more to the story than what came out in court. Shain was pathetic, the kind of man that gives cats the reputation you think we all have.” She gave Riot a pointed look and he realized it was true. Not only had he taken Gemma’s experience with a wild animal to heart, he had painted his whole shifter species with a color that, in his experience, really only looked good on Shain and his immediate family. In reality Riot had plenty of examples of upstanding cats; Ryder, Shiloh, his mom.
She smiled at Riot and delivered another whammy. “Why do you think I suggested Nantahala in the first place? Just for the climbing?”
Riot’s jaw hung slack. She sent me down there? It was all a set-up? Riot had to hand it to his mom. She'd gotten him good. Probably had known exactly what he'd do when he hooked up with the shifters in the area and found out about Shain, and how he was treating Faith and Baker.
Riot shook his head in disbelief as his mother continued. “Plus, all the jewelry he told the cops you had in your room, and he doesn’t include the necklace on your dresser that I dusted around for weeks after that party?” Her eyes sharpened and her tone turned thoughtful. “Only makes sense if it belonged to her. Did it?” Riot swallowed and nodded.
His mother smiled back, pleased to have solved the puzzle. “Faith didn’t know about the necklace, or your history with Gemma. She just told me about what she and Shain had done. Poor thing liked to have cried her eyes out.” The hard set of Blossom’s jaw told Riot she might not have minded too much if Faith had done just that. But she breathed deep and smiled up at her son. “I put the rest together myself.”
Riot grimaced. “The necklace was broken. I fixed it and I was going to give it back. I wanted to give her time to, I don't know, recover or something.” He let his voice trail off. “Then it was too late.”
Blossom laughed at that, but not like she thought it was funny. “I swear, for such a smart man, you do and say the most ridiculous things. Riot,” she started, in that tone she had that made it clear she was not to be fucked with. “You are alive. She is alive. Don’t you even remember how the hell you got your name??”
Riot startled at his mother’s emotional outburst, then mumbled in reply. “Yeah, I remember.”
But Blossom ignored him, going on in the strident tone of a mother fighting for her child, tears in her bright green eyes. “Your father and I loved each other so much, we always said we could start a riot with our feelings alone.” She grabbed Riot’s hand and squeezed. “Some things are bigger than you, baby. And if you don’t go after them, your life will never be what it could be.”
Riot hung his head and grimaced. “Yeah, but…” He let his voice trail off.
Blossom didn't let him move an inch. “But nothing. You deserve this. Only person saying you don't is you.”
That stopped Riot cold. He closed his eyes. Could it possibly be true? All these years, believing he wasn’t fit for anything but prison or scraping out a hard living.
But before he could say anything more, his mother squeezed his hand again, her voice going thin. “Riot? You’re… glowing.”
Riot opened his eyes and looked at their joined hands. His was glowing bright, neon green. In the next second a roar rose up inside him, speaking just one word. (go)
He looked at Blossom, her eyes wide and questioning. The words stuck in his throat, but he forced them out. “The coven. They’re in danger.”
His mother pulled her hand from Riot’s to pat his cheek, her eyes smiling into his. “Go get ‘em, sweetie.”
Riot pushed to his feet, snagging his keys and jacket on the way out the door. Urgency made his whole body tight, his movements sharp. He shoved his arms into thick leather, mentally cursing every second he wasted, as he fired up his bike and tore off towards the highway.
The voice inside him, the Instinct, was pushing Riot forward, but still he was racing the clock. It was at least a forty-five minute ride back to Resperanza’s gate, and then he had to find out where the coven was and figure out how to help.
If he wasn’t fast enough, he might be too late. Might leave Gemma feeling let down, like he didn’t care enough to come. Like the last two days.
Urgency fisted in Riot’s gut, twisting him. He’d left Gemma with no promise of returning. If there were vampires, who would she hunt with? Fuck it, man, you know what you’re really worried about. Who will she Prowl with? The thought of it being anyone but him… Riot almost choked on the feeling those images provoked, on the self-hatred he knew he’d feel if he failed Gemma in this.
He opened the throttle as far as it could go, pushing his bike past the hundred mile-per-hour mark, weaving through the traffic as cars blasted their horns at him. Yeah, fuck you, too.
A sign came up for an exit. Not Riot’s. But as he glanced to the right he saw a patch of white flowers, blooming right in the middle of the pavement. No fucking way. Resperanza, you beauty.
Riot cut between two cars and zipped up the exit ramp, his wheels aimed right for the center of the blooming mass. Thirty feet away it occurred to him to slow down; he had no idea where this shortcut was going to spit him out. But that voice inside him spoke up, loud and clear. (trust)
Riot laughed inside his helmet. Trust? Have you even met me? But he sped back up, pushing his upper body low over the handlebars and holding on tight.
A flash of light as he hit the first leaf, and Riot was thrown into chaos once again, no time for even a thought to cross his mind before he found himself upright and still speeding, now on a red clay road, the familiar sign for the Casar gold mine coming up fast on his right.
Magic was incredible sometimes.
Chapter 38 - Mine Sweepers
Gemma sat in the backseat of Flint’s Range Rover, trying to focus on the road ahead despite all the bouncing. Flint grumbled in the driver’s seat, manhandling the SUV over ruts in the dirt before easing to the side and stopping in a turnaround where, Gemma could see in the sweep of the headlights, the clay was parched and hardened. Gemma opened the door and spilled out of the backseat, finally feeling like she could draw a full breath. She and Shiloh had been packed like sardines into the back seat with Bryce, the young grizzly’s bulk taking up all the available space and then some.
She looked behind them and watched Jameson’s truck pull in, Cora’s tiny feet hitting the ground before the big wolf even got his door open. J looked as worried as Gemma had ever seen him. He spoke across the hood of the truck, shooting an apprehensive look at his eager fiancée. “Still feeling good, babe?”
Cora glanced over her shoulder and smiled cheekily at her mate. “Feeling great, babe. Don’t break out the bubble wrap just yet.” She made for her sisters, a ten-poun
d bag of rice on her shoulder. Cora’s eyes locked on Gemma’s, smiling like isn’t-he-the-sweetest?
Goldie came up next to Gemma, and Cora’s smile turned wicked. “You switches ready to kick some ass?”
Goldie still hadn’t settled from her brush with Carick. The petite blonde was fiddling with the knife strapped to her side, fingering the elaborate silver scrollwork of the handle. “Ready.” Goldie’s voice was hard, not at all like herself, and she pulled out her Resonant, her blue eyes gazing lovingly at the blade that Gemma was sure had to be almost a foot long.
Damn, Goldilocks. Man gives me a knife like that, I’d call him Papa Bear, too. Gemma hid her smile as she turned to the back of Flint’s ride, grabbing the second bag of rice they’d found in Resperanza’s pantry. She heard a crack in the brush behind her and turned.
A man with dark skin, bare shoulders, and a gorgeous, wide smile greeted Gemma from five feet away, on the other side of a tall bush. “Nobody told me the new sister was a sistah! How you doin’, Gemma?”
Jameson stepped up beside her. “Gemma, meet Dario Saluda, Five Hills PD and one of the coventwined, shifters who work for The Cause.” Gemma turned back to wave, but the man was gone. A black wolf appeared from behind the bush, padding confidently forward to barely brush against her legs.
Gemma felt a shiver move through her body, but this was different than before. It wasn’t the old fear - she’d truly gotten over that since being around all the shifters of the Cause - and it wasn’t the tingling arousal of danger she felt around Riot. No, Gemma was worried about what would come after the Undoing. The choice she’d have to defend, if only from herself.
A flurry of noise interrupted her thoughts, and Gemma turned to see an eagle landing in the middle of the road, shifting cleanly into a man wearing a ranger uniform like Jameson’s. He had golden hair, a sharp-nosed profile, and he took in the crowd gathering around him, clacking his teeth once.
