It takes us almost half an hour to reach our destination; a row of nondescript terrace houses. Boring. They all look the same. No personality, no character. The only thing that varies is the state of their front gardens. There’s only one that’s perfectly kept with grass that looks perfectly even, the rest are everything from overgrown by weeds to covered in rubbish. I wouldn’t want to live here.
“What are we doing here?” Beth asks. “This doesn’t look like a cat kidnapper would live here.”
Ryker meows, but there are too many nuances in his message.
“Sorry, I don’t understand. Something about a sign?”
Ryker shakes his head and meows again. This time, there’s frustration in the sound, annoyance that I don’t get what he’s trying to tell me.
“A message?”
He growls in irritation.
“If you’re annoyed at me not understanding, maybe you should shift and tell me properly,” I snap at him. And regret it instantly.
His eyes widen, the hurt obvious in their blue depths.
I don’t say sorry though. It’s a word that’s not in my vocabulary.
Without another meow, he leads us to a house in the centre of the row. If anyone’s looking out of their windows, they must think it’s two women taking their cat for a walk, not the other way round. But from the way this neighbourhood looks, I bet everyone is in an office, staring at boring paperwork all day round. How mundane.
There’s a narrow gap between two houses, just wide enough for people to drag their bins from the garden to the curb, where rubbish carts come to collect it every couple of days. The garden behind the house is overgrown and doesn’t look like anyone’s set foot in it for a while. There’s a smell in the air though… cats.
Ryker leads us to a large but old shed at the back of the garden. Some of the planks are loose and I bet the roof is leaky.
“Why are we here?” I ask before remembering that I likely won’t get a reply I can understand. This is frustrating.
He scratches the shed door and I open it for him. The inside is dark but my eyes adjust quickly. Behind garden equipment and spiderwebs is a pile of dirty outdoor cushions, the ones you use on deck chairs. On top of it is a skinny girl, just as covered in dust as the rest of the shed. Reddish hair shines underneath the dirt, the colour barely visible. She can’t be older than five or six, and is staring at us with wide eyes. She doesn’t seem scared though, just surprised.
“I did not expect that,” Beth mutters from behind me.
“Ryker, what’s going on?” I ask quietly, not wanting to scare the girl. She’s not giving off the scent of someone who’s frightened, but until I know what’s happening here, I don’t want her to run away because she’s scared. There has to be a reason why Ryker led us to this shed.
Ryker puts his paw on his nose and pats it.
“You want me to… sniff her?”
He nods.
I step closer to the girl, smiling at her in what I hope looks friendly and unthreatening. I don’t think I’ve got any better in pretending to be nice, but maybe working with children in the Kindler case has made me slightly more approachable. Not that I want to be sociable, but sometimes, giving the appearance of a charming person can come in handy.
She doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch, just looks at me. I concentrate on my cat senses. They’re harder to access; must be a result of my failed shift last night.
Her scent surprises me. No, wrong word. It shocks me. I sniff again, and again, breathing in her scent until I can’t concentrate on anything else.
Ryker meows when he realises that I got what he’s been trying to tell me.
“What’s wrong?” Beth asks when I slowly step back, away from the girl.
I ignore her and lock eyes with the child. “Who are you?”
She doesn’t reply.
“What’s your name?”
Still no answer.
“Kat, what’s going on?” Beth demands.
I clench my fists, unsure how to deal with this.
“She’s a shifter,” I mutter after a moment’s silence. “And I think she’s my mother’s daughter.”
Chapter Ten
I need air. I step out of the shed, maintaining composure until I’ve walked back to the street, out of sight. I’m unsure of how to react. What do you do when you find out that you might have a sister? Scream? Run? Cry? Laugh hysterically? I think I’m closest to the last one, but now that I’m away from the others, I no longer feel like I want to explode. What I want is time travel. Returning to how everything was a couple of weeks ago, before Mr Kindler, before it all went to pieces. Why couldn’t things have stayed simple. I had such a lovely life. Now all I have is chaos.
A new scent hits my nose, one that I really don’t need just now.
“Go away,” I tell Lennox before he even reaches me.
He doesn’t listen. He walks to my side and stands there, not quite touching me but close enough that either of us could reach out.
“It was me who found her,” he says quietly. “I thought I was tracking the other scent. Your mother’s.”
“That’s not proven yet,” I interrupt him brusquely. “It could be someone similar to me. Maybe a distant relative.”
“You don’t believe that.”
I grimace. “No, I don’t. But it’s a nice delusion that I’d like to hold on to.”
Lennox sighs. “Trust me, I totally understand. If one of my parents was to turn up, I don’t know what I’d do. Kill them, most likely. And to find out that you have a sister, well, it’s overwhelming.”
“That’s an understatement. I’ve never, ever thought that I might have siblings. I thought my mother was dead, so there wouldn’t have been the possibility. But now she’s not dead and I have a sibling and I have no idea what to believe anymore.” I look at him, annoyed by the sympathy in his expression. He’s not supposed to pity me. I’m the only one who’s allowed that. Self-pity is a skill.
"What would you do in my shoes?" I challenge him.
"I haven't got the faintest. I'd probably run and hide under the bridge in the hope that it all goes away."
My anger disappears. We're so similar. I always thought of him as a brother, back at the Pack. Now, he's changed roles, become more than a brother, but already I miss that platonic relationship we had. I'll never be able to look at him again as the boy he once was. I've explored his body from top to bottom, felt him inside me, and turned our relationship upside down into something I can't quite define yet. Not sure if he can, either. We're stumbling in the dark, neither of us experienced enough in relationships to figure it out. For now, avoiding him seems like the best course of action.
"I wasn't sure at first, but Ryker seemed to think the same thing," he says quietly, bringing us back to the topic I don't want to think about. "Her scent is very similar to yours, and now that we know about your mother, figured out what her scent is like, there's little doubt about who she is. Even if we didn't have her scent, she looks like you did at her age. The same hair, the same eyes. You were just as skinny."
His eyes roam my body, his gaze heatens. Is he thinking of what I look like beneath my leather jumpsuit? Is he remembering the way he touched me? For a moment, I let that memory linger in my mind. It's better than facing the fact that I have a half-sister who's in a random shed around the corner. How did she even end up there? Does she live here? Did my mother abandon her too?
"How did I never notice?" I mutter. "If she lives in this town, I must have come across her scent. I've been in this neighbourhood many times before. I know every street, every roof in town. How could I have missed it?"
"You didn't recognise the scent at the chocolate factory either," he says reassuringly. "It's similar to yours, so you probably filed it away as one of your own old traces. You had no reason to think that your mother was alive, nor that there's a sibling of yours living here. I mean, this is mind-blowing. Have you spoken to her yet?"
I shake my head. "I ne
eded a moment alone," I admit, grimacing at my own admission of weakness. I'm becoming a person I never wanted to be. Emotional, dependent on other people, weak. I'm even developing a conscience. This is bad.
"Want me to come with you?" His eyes meet mine. There are so many emotions in his gaze, so many unspoken words. I don't think I can handle them just now.
"No, I need to do this on my own. But stay close, the cats might need you again since we still haven't found my mother."
I know he's thinking that my sister might lead us to her. And yes, I'm already making plans for how I might be able to use the girl as bait. She may be my sister by blood, but I don't know her. I don't owe her anything. I won't harm her, I'd never harm a child, but just because we have the same mother doesn't mean that I'm going to be her loving big sister.
I take a deep breath and make my way back to the shed. Lennox stays behind, but I can feel his gaze boring into my back. I'm almost relieved when I round a corner and I'm out of his line of vision.
Ryker is waiting for me in front of the shed, his body tense. I ignore him and go inside, where Bethany is sitting next to the girl. Neither of them is talking, but there doesn't seem to be any animosity between them. Silently, I take in the child's appearance. Lennox is right, she does look a lot like me. Not just because our hair is the same fiery colour, but the way the tip of her nose looks like someone pressed a finger against it, the straight line of her eyebrows, the shade of her eyes. She's like a tiny version of me. Just as skinny as I was at her age too. Back at the Pack, the oldest and strongest got to eat first, which meant there rarely was enough left over for us younger kids. It's how we learned to be tough, to fight for our right to survive. I scan her thin figure. No muscles are clinging to her arms, no steel in the way she holds herself. She's not a fighter, she's just not had enough food.
Her eyes meet mine, but she doesn't say anything. I'm beginning to wonder if she's mute. Wouldn't a normal child be asking questions? Find out why strangers are coming in her shed, looking at her strangely. How very weird.
"Who are you?" I ask, barely able to hide the bite in my voice. I don't want to scare her, but I'm not comfortable in this situation at all. I almost wish that she'd run away so that I don't have to deal with her.
She doesn't reply. Figures.
I sigh and crouch down until I'm level with her. "I'm Kat. What's your name?"
She doesn't even blink.
"Kat, there's something you need to see," Beth says quietly. She puts a hand on the girl's shoulder and gently lifts her scarf.
"Fuck." I stare at the metal wrapped around my sister's throat. A collar. It's thinner than the one I used to wear, easier to hide underneath clothing, but a collar nonetheless.
I'm ready to kill someone.
"Lennox!" I shout and he appears in the door of the shed only seconds later. He takes in the scene and his expression turns grave.
"Do you have the key to open it?" I ask him, avoiding his eyes. "Do you know how to do it?"
He shakes his head. "I don't, I'm so sorry. I know who might have one though, let me see if I can find him."
I give him a grateful, tight smile and he turns and runs off. Hopefully, he'll be able to find a key. If he doesn't, I might be able to go to Mystery Man's daughter and see if she has his belongings still. He opened my collar, so he must have had a key in his possession.
The girl isn't reacting at all to the fact that we're all staring at her and that Beth is still holding up her scarf. It's as if she's not quite aware of her surroundings. I don't think it's the collar's doing, although maybe this one is different from the one I had. Mine was copper, while this one is a gleaming silver colour. Back at the Pack, there were rumours that there was a new collar they had developed, one that would give them complete control over us, not just over our abilities. I never believed them though. If they'd managed to invent something like that, they would have already been using it.
Now, I doubt myself. I should have believed in their ability to devise even more evil things than the way they'd enslaved us all. We still had minds of our own - tamed, but not completely under their control. If this girl is the result of what they've come up with... I'm going to have to do something about it. This is wrong on so many levels. Lennox has been talking to me about going against the Pack, and so has Lily, but I refused to listen to them. I've tried to stay away from the Pack for so long that actually turning direction and confronting them goes against all I've worked towards. I've wanted to stay in the shadows without drawing attention, focusing on my business, on my life. Doing what I want to do for the first time ever. I've done that for over half a year now. I guess I should have known that it couldn't last forever.
The Pack always catches up with you, even if it's not in the way you expected.
I reach out and run two fingers over the silver collar. It's cold to the touch; again, different from how my own collar used to feel like. It must be uncomfortable, but the girl doesn't react. I grit my teeth and pinch her shoulder. She doesn't even cry out. She just looks at me, the blankness in her eyes obvious now. They may be the same colour as mine, but there is no life in them. She's trapped inside, her mind held hostage by the collar.
I try something else. "Stand up."
Immediately, she does as I say. She sways a little on her thin legs, but I know she won't even notice.
"Those bastards," Bethany whispers. "What have they done to her?"
"Tell me your name," I say firmly, locking eyes with the girl. Before, I asked a question, now, it's a command.
She doesn't respond though. That must mean that either she can't, or she's been forbidden to talk at all.
"Do you live here?" I ask. "Nod if it's a yes."
She shakes her head.
"Then why are you-" I groan when I realise that it won't work that way. Only using yes and no questions will make this take forever. I have no desire to stay here, especially when we don't know why the girl was here in the first place. Are Pack members going to come for her soon? As much as I would love to get my hands on some Pack minions, killing them all very slowly and painfully, I know it's not a good move. We need to prepare and make a plan. Besides, anyone sent here by the Pack would be collared themselves. The people in charge, the ones who don't wear collars, rarely leave their headquarters. They let others do the dirty work, while they enjoy the fruits of their slaves' labour.
"Come with me," I order not unkindly and leave the shed. She stumbles after me and I realise that she's barefoot. Her clothes are torn in places, but they're not bad quality. Her feet, however, are dirty and covered in bruises. Poor thing.
If I could, I'd carry her, but I still feel my own fatigue wearing me down. My body is still healing itself.
Luckily, Gryphon is waiting outside.
"Can you carry her? She looks too frail to make it all the way back to our house."
He nods and gently lifts her in his arms, cradling her against his chest. She doesn't lean against him, doesn't give in to the comfort he tries to give her, but stays stiff and unyielding. Like she doesn't feel it at all.
Again, I want to kill someone. Smash something. Hurt people.
Even if she wasn't my sister, I'd want to avenge what they did to this girl. But since she's my sister... I'm coming for them.
Chapter Eleven
It takes us longer to get back to the house than I would have liked. It's mostly because I'm slow. Gryphon could probably run all the way even though he's carrying the little girl, but I feel more and more like I'm about to faint. I'm starting to believe that I'm getting ill. That the whole shifting-gone-wrong episode wasn't just because I'd shifted too often. Maybe there's some kind of cat shifter bug. Who knows, it's not like my mother stayed around to teach me.
Yes, I'm bitter. Especially when I look at my little sister. She's half asleep in Gryphon's arms and I almost envy her. She still doesn’t look like she has any clue about her surroundings, but she does look more human now that she’s so sleepy. I hope the coll
ar will allow her to rest.
By the time we get home, I can barely stand. I don’t let any of the others notice that, obviously, but putting up a strong façade uses up even more of my limited energy.
“Let’s take her to the living room,” I tell Gryphon and let him walk ahead, followed by Ryker and two other, smaller cats. Bethany is by my side, quiet and lost in thought.
I lean against the doorframe and watch as he carefully lays her on one of the sofas, supporting her little head. He’s so gentle with the little girl. I’m surprised to see this side of him. It makes him even more intriguing. He’s a mystery that I still need to solve. Hell, I don’t even know what he is. Usually, I wouldn’t let someone close to me who I don’t know anything about, but he’s proved that he’s trustworthy. In the way any assassin can be trusted. Benjamin runs down the stairs, trips and lands on all fours in front of my feet. I sigh. And this is supposed to be my master thief? The boy who can get into any building unnoticed, even the heavily guarded police headquarters? Yeah, sure.
He grins at me and jumps to his feet.
“You look tired,” he observes. Oh, how I’m tempted to slap him. But good employers don’t hit their staff. I’m not going to win Employer of the Year anytime soon, but I don’t want any of them to leave. They’re too invaluable – even Benjamin.
“At least you’re no longer covered in blood. How are you feeling?”
I’m taken aback by that question. People don’t usually ask me that. My glare shuts them up before they ever get the idea of asking me such a mundane, unnecessary question.
I nod towards the girl instead. “Meet my sister.”
His eyes widen. “Are you serious?”
I grimace. “As serious as I can be. Half-sister. Same mother. Can you get her some food? For all of us, actually. Lots and lots of food.”
He looks as if he’d rather go over to the sofa and investigate, but luckily, he decides to follow my order. I slowly walk to one of the armchairs, pretending to be slow for a good reason, not because I’m about to keel over. Still, when I hit the fluffy cushions, I can’t help but sigh in relief.
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