Secrets in the Fade (Secrets of the Sequoia Book 2)

by Deidre Huesmann

  “What?”

  She spun to find him at the top of the stairs, now clothed. Relieved, she stumbled up to hug him tight, as though he were Jackson. “Don’t leave my sight.”

  “But I was naked.”

  “I know, but—” Geez, what was she doing? Spinning into a tizzy was not going to help Nathan any, much less herself. Relieving her lungs of air, Rachael sat on the top step and pulled the boy into her lap. “I’m sorry.”

  Nathan hugged her, his eyes dry as though he’d never shed tears. “It’ll be okay,” he told her confidently. “Once Aaron’s home, he’ll fix it.”

  “How can he possibly fix this?” she whispered.

  “He’ll probably just hide the body.”

  Such callous words from a sweet young voice jarred Rachael back to reality. Part of her wanted to shove Nathan away. Instead her arms tightened around him and she buried her face in his downy hair.

  The front door opened. In her scramble, Rachael nearly knocked Nathan down the flight of stairs and she tripped on the last step. As she picked herself up a pair of familiar polished shoes tapped into her vision. She hoisted herself up to meet Aaron’s bewildered face.

  “Jackson’s missing,” she gasped.

  Behind her Nathan added, “He faded.”

  Aaron didn’t even blink or ask if she was all right. He walked toward the back door with such mildness that Rachael wanted to scream. She instead focused that energy on stomping upon the wood flooring of the vestibule, not caring that she was scuffing the shine. Even Nathan had nothing to say to her. She irrationally hated the boy’s look of pity.

  Minutes seemed like eons before all three men returned. Jackson’s protests rang audibly before they entered the home.

  “I’m telling you, I didn’t fade!”

  “Then what the hell was that body about?” Holden shouted.

  “I said I don’t know! But it wasn’t me!”

  Rachael’s throat betrayed her and closed. She ran to her brother, hugging him before anybody had a chance to keep her away. He clung back to her, both protective and scared.

  She turned her head up to meet his eyes. “Jackie, what happened?”

  “I don’t know,” he snapped again. Then, pausing to breathe, he said, “I told your stupid friend a million times: I felt myself starting to fade, so I did what I was taught.” Now he looked at Aaron. “I lay down. Closed my eyes. Practiced my breathing, just like you taught me. I was doing it the whole time until he showed up. But there wasn’t a body when I started, and I don’t know how it got there!”

  “A body dumped beside you would still be difficult not to notice,” said Aaron softly.

  Jackson jerked away from his sister, his fists clenched. “My meditation is good,” he argued. “Sometimes I forget everything else, you know that!”

  Aaron said nothing. To his left, Holden scoffed, though his eyes were troubled.

  Nathan, who had been silently watching them, piped up. “Should I hide the body?”

  His brother shot him a scrutinizing look that made Nathan shrink back. “No,” said Aaron. “I will take care of the clean-up.”

  Rachael instinctively reached out for Jackson’s hand. How could they speak of the dead as though the girl had never mattered? She had once breathed the same air they did, dreamt and cried from nightmares as Rachael had, walked through Douglas Park and heard the dry leaves crunch beneath her feet and catch the musky scent of fall as they all could just minutes ago. Somewhere the girl had a mother who was probably concerned. When she eventually never returned home, her father would probably cry silent tears, just as Rachael’s had when Jackson vanished.

  Her brother’s voice brought her back to the present. “What am I supposed to do?” To Rachael’s surprise, his voice wavered. Aaron mentioned before that fading was common with new lycans. Had Jackson managed not to kill anyone before this?

  Firmly, Aaron said, “You are to stay here until I say otherwise. Holden, go buy the necessities. Now.”

  For once, Holden didn’t question his alpha. He grimly nodded and left without so much as a sideways glance to Rachael; nothing to assure his friend that this was going to be okay.

  But then, with a little girl dead, how could anything really be okay? And with so many missing children in town already.

  “What are the necessities?” demanded Rachael.

  Aaron looked to her brother, tilting his head in a motion that clearly said, Leave us. Jackson obeyed, but not before squeezing Rachael and giving her a comforting kiss on the forehead. The warmth from his hand left with him, as well as the remaining amenity in the room.

  “You, too,” ordered Aaron.

  Nathan grumbled and clomped the entire way up the stairs to what Rachael presumed to be his room considering how hard he slammed the door. Now she was alone. With Aaron. And he had such a serious expression.

  How had Holden allowed this to happen? Just minutes ago he had nearly shaken the earth with his rage at this very problem, yet this time he hadn’t put up the slightest fight with his alpha. And Aaron’s eyes made her want to run, as though she instinctively knew what he had to say could rip open the ground beneath her until she fell into the deepest pits of hell.

  Rachael swallowed.

  Crossing his arms and wrinkling his crisp gray button-up, Aaron said, “If you believe you can keep your composure, I will be frank with you.”

  Against her better judgment, Rachael promised she could.

  “Under these circumstances, a pup typically faces death.”

  For some reason, the words refused to sink in. “I don’t understand.”

  He nodded, as though to say, Of course you don’t. “Usually during the formative years, a pup is restrained, educated, and disciplined. It is not unlike undoing all the bad habits of a domesticated animal. A lycan’s natural urge is to hunt and kill, very much like a wolf. Unlike wolves, we initially do not discriminate between animals and humans. Food is food. Our history, what little we know, indicates we previously did not make that distinction. We have been hunted and slaughtered. Because of that we are now endangered.

  “The only way we have managed to keep our numbers up is by forcing pups to learn the difference between man and dinner. It is not a pleasant process. Your brother has endured much to learn this, despite his human roots. And in spite of the odds, he has been one of the few who has become discrete and cautious. He knows humans are off-limits. He understands not to hunt indiscriminately.”

  Hope blossomed in her breastbone, beginning to warm the chill that had overtaken her. “So this can’t be him,” Rachael breathed.

  “I did not say that,” said Aaron flatly. As quickly as it had begun, the warm blossom shriveled and closed. He forged on ruthlessly. “Fading complicates this. At best, it is a mental defense against the pain of transformation in the early years. At worse, it is meant to lock out all reason and empathy with mankind. This could just as easily been your brother as it could be another lycan—and it is, unfortunately, more likely your brother. There are no other lycans here.”

  Desperate to hold on to the needle-thin rod of hope, Rachael said, “You can’t know that for sure.”

  Something dangerous sparked in his eyes then. “Do not presume. Lycans are territorial. There is no other pack within the county limits. I do not tread upon another’s territory. Furthermore, I would smell it were another to tread upon mine.”

  This made no sense. Rachael kicked a foot in frustration, her arms stiff and straight at her sides and her fists clenched into knuckled balls. “You keep moving all the time! Holden said you have to, because you age so slow.”

  “Why do you assume all lycans retain human form, Ms. Adair?”

  “I—” She stopped short. That was a glaring problem. “But you’re... I mean, werewolves are just humans who—”

  “We are lycans,” he said sharply. In his anger, his manners and formalities faltered. “If you cannot distinguish the differences between fairy tales and reality, then you shall have
no business in your brother’s affairs from here on out.”

  It was infuriating, how he insisted on referring to Jackson as her brother instead of his name. Aaron behaved as though he was doing his damnedest to force some emotional distance between himself and his pup. That couldn’t happen. If she allowed him to think that way, if she just accepted what he was implying was the way it had to be, then Jackson would die.

  Stubbornly she pressed. “No matter what you are, you started out human. I know you did, and so did Nathan and Holden and Jackie and even—even Beatrice.” His face remained stony, but his shoulders rounded a bit. Encouraged, she continued her impassioned speech. “It can’t just be that you were hunted before. You are lycan, but there are parts of you that are still human. Why else do you keep staying in these forms? It can’t be easy.”

  Aaron broke eye contact. His mouth contracted into a thin, angry slash. Several tense moments passed before he said, almost inaudibly, “That compassion for humans is precisely why this rule is in place.”

  She wanted to scream at him. But this isn’t just people! It’s Jackie, and you promised to take care of him! Yet the image of all the missing kids came to mind, and her tongue refused to work. If it was true that her brother had killed them, then he had taken the lives of many. And the implication was that he couldn’t help himself. So he would just kill again, and again, and more helpless children would be found brutalized.

  Several families had been torn apart over the past few weeks. Did the life of her brother honestly outweigh theirs? If Jackson really was at fault, he would never forgive himself. But that wouldn’t matter to the families if they found out.

  In her heart, it didn’t change that she could lose her brother, one of the only family members she had left. Ethically, perhaps he’d have to die. That didn’t mean a part of her wouldn’t wither and die with him.

  Her heart and mind warred with no winner in sight.

  When Aaron refused to look her way, Rachael threw her hands up and stalked off to the living room. She sat on the couch, worrying at one of her nails again.

  It seemed she and Aaron remained in their poses for a small eternity by the time Holden returned. Oddly, the outside air seemed to have warmed with his presence. Rachael ran past Aaron and threw herself into Holden’s protective embrace. Though he held her, the stiffness in his muscles kept her from feeling safer.

  “Hey,” Holden said softly, chucking her beneath her chin. “Maybe you should go home for a bit.”

  Rachael shook her head. “Holden, he says Jackson has to die,” she whispered loudly. “He won’t listen to me.”

  Her friend’s normally inviting gold-flecked eyes shuttered closed. “Rachael—”

  “There has to be another way!”

  Holden finally detached from her, holding her at arm’s length. His eyebrows knitted in a pained look as he said, “I don’t want him to die, either. But... he has to.”

  Her blood went still and cold. She withdrew from him, trying not to shake. When he took a step forward to comfort her, she threw her back against the nearest wall. Rachael’s eyes darted from the alpha to the man who was supposed to be her friend, disbelievingly.

  “You can’t be serious,” she said. Then, taken over by sudden fury, she whirled on Aaron. “You can’t do this! Jackie has been nothing but good to you, and I’ve been putting up with all of this until now. You can’t take him from me again!” Tears sprang to her eyes, leaving hot trails in their wake.

  “Rachael, I’m sorry,” Holden said from behind her. “It’s just something that happens. We’ve had to do it before, at least a dozen times. Some people just can’t cut it.”

  She didn’t dare look at him. It was far easier to shout at Aaron, who took it with solid stoicism. “I swear if you kill him, I’ll put your pack in danger! I’ll tell Vera, I’ll tell Shawna—I’ll tell my dad you kidnapped and killed him. And I will not be sorry! Even if it kills you and Nathan and every other lycan in the world!” Aware her pitch was rising with hysteria, she still couldn’t stop herself. “If I have to, I’ll spend the rest of my life hunting you down. You are not going to hurt my brother!”

  Gasping, her face flushed, the weight of her words began to take their toll. If the way Aaron was looking at her was any indication, he took her seriously.

  Well, he should. Maybe they were empty threats now, but Rachael meant every word. She would find a way. She had faced the insanity of Roxi and nearly lost. If this came to life or death, she knew she would find a way to better prepare herself for the next fight.

  Carefully, Aaron said, “Miss Rachael, I must ask you to leave.” He raised a hand to halt any further interruptions. “For now, I give you my word that I shall attempt to find an alternative.”

  “What?” Holden said incredulously.

  She couldn’t afford to let Holden distract her. Whatever his issue was, she would worry about it later. Aaron was the one who held Jackson’s life with an iron fist.

  Fear and gratitude choked Rachael’s voice. “Please. Just give me a few days. I’ll figure out something.”

  Aaron’s gaze went past her, his eyes narrowed. “So long as what you do does not endanger my pack, I will watch Jackson and see if he cannot be rehabilitated. But I will not wait longer than a week—and absolutely cannot hesitate if he kills someone else.”

  Rachael knew she couldn’t ask for more without risking more serious consequences. “Promise me.”

  “I already did,” Aaron maintained.

  She could have melted with relief, but resolved to keep her back straight. Rachael nodded once, stiffly, and turned to her friend. His smoldering scowl was off-putting. Unfortunately, she couldn’t worry about anybody but Jackson right now.

  “Hey.” She took Holden’s hand, forcing him to acknowledge her. “Please don’t let him hurt Jackie.”

  “I won’t,” he said shortly. To soften the tension, he gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Thanks.” Rachael threw one last glance up the stairs, adding a prayer to her mother, whom she hoped was listening. Mama, please protect Jackie. He needs us.

  Still ill at ease, she opened the door to begin her long trudge home.

  * * *

  Heated pressure caused the air to crackle between Holden and his alpha. He gritted his teeth and waited. Too many times now he had blown up in front of Rachael. As far as he was concerned, he’d just narrowly avoided causing another scene in front of her by sheer luck. This time he would wait until he was certain she was past the driveway, if not further. His voice could carry if it had to, and he wanted to give her no cause to turn around.

  Aaron watched him levelly, expectantly.

  When Holden finally spoke, it was in a harsh whisper. “What the hell was that about?”

  For once, his alpha didn’t attempt to bait him. Aaron cocked his head to the side. “I felt it prudent to look more into this matter.”

  “No,” spat Holden. “This isn’t any different from the others.”

  “It is very different.”

  “It’s exactly the same!” His scars were on fire, his muscles tight and trembling with the overwhelming desire to attack. “We’ve killed others for less—don’t interrupt me,” he shouted as Aaron started to speak. “I had to murder more than my fair share. Do you need a damn list? Shelton almost ripped Nathan in two, so I shot him. Yolanda killed a whole small town, and you made me fight her. I had to rip her head off! Literally rip her head off her neck! Then there’s Claire, Ronnie, Matthias, Michael, Erin—do I need to keep going?”

  His voice brittle, Aaron said, “That list ought to suffice.”

  “Great. So what’s different this time?”

  Onyx eyes glinted sharply in response. Aaron’s arms fell to his sides, the pose deceptively lax. “You ultimately put us in this position.”

  Holden felt his control pulling painfully taut. “Don’t blame me for your sick obsessions! I know exactly what’s going on. For once, you’re letting a
woman’s feelings get in the way of your reason. And you shouldn’t. It doesn’t matter because she’ll never love an animal!”

  “Step off this thin ice, Holden,” warned Aaron.

  As far as Holden was concerned, that was an admission. With a horrendous scream, he tackled the man. Aaron did his best to absorb the attack, but the force sent them both crashing into the living room. Holden struck blindly, heedless of his shrieking instincts. Initially, it seemed to be helping. Rarely had he ever landed a blow on his alpha, but now he landed solid hits to Aaron’s head. Three, four, five; more strikes than he had ever landed before.

  Unfortunately, now that he had declared the brawl dirty, Aaron finally lashed back with malice. Sinewy fingers yanked Holden’s hair back so hard he swore he heard both strands and thin layers of skin tearing. Holden jerked his head, leaving his alpha with a fistful of hair. Better than keeping his throat exposed.

  In his frenzy to continue landing punches to Aaron’s face, Holden hardly noticed he was practically sitting on the man’s sternum.

  What happened next was so fast and so unbelievably painful that he didn’t have time to marvel over his utter stupidity. He had the brief warning of Aaron’s legs lurching toward him, and then the man’s heels were on his shoulders. Aaron’s calves tensed for a split second before he threw Holden to the hardwood floor. A distinct, horrid whack split the air. Before Holden could determine whether his skull or the floor had cracked, Aaron sat up, his arms outstretched.

  Holden blacked out when his ears were boxed.

  This was not the first time it had happened to him, but the last time was so long ago he had forgotten how painful it was. He wasn’t unconscious for more than a moment or two, but when he came to, he nearly vomited. Everything spun in kaleidoscope vision. His left ear felt as though it had exploded, and he heard nothing more than a piercing ring in his right. A dull, creeping ache at the nape of his neck warned him of the whiplash he would soon suffer. And, of course, his entire skull encased in stabbing agony.