A Shifter's Second Chance

by Marie Johnston

  Gray mouthed thank you. Jace ducked his head.

  As if Gray needed more things to lose, he’d also miss getting to know the real Jace. How critical his job was. It wasn’t just some cushy security job. He was dedicated to his people, and he loved Cassie. His protectiveness had always been apparent but getting to witness them move around each other in their home and see how relaxed and ready to smile Cassie was around Jace was a special treat for a father who worried about his daughter.

  “Ugh.” Cassie straightened. “I’m a mess.”

  He was about to say no one would notice, but nothing was missed around here. On his walk with Armana last night, his voices had taunted him that they were being watched. Gray had almost laughed at the irony. Of course they were being watched. These beings didn’t miss anything.

  He stuck with “I’m sure they’ll understand.”

  Cassie nodded and wiped her face off. She rose and went to the sink to splash water on her face. Gray went to stand beside Jace. He had no items to pack, no luggage. The sweats and T-shirt he was wearing were borrowed.

  His ankle felt better but he walked with a limp. He should be using crutches, but they were borrowed, too.

  They all walked together down to the lodge. The birds and the wind sweeping through the canopy of leaves produced a more cheerful sound than any of them could’ve.

  Jace held the door open for them. Cassie led the way, taking it slow. His midnight stroll had been a setback for his healing, but he hadn’t wanted the crutches with him. Today’s trek across uneven ground wasn’t helping his ankle mend, but Gray’s worries were elsewhere.

  His world brightened when Armana emerged from the top of a stairwell. Her half smile was encouraging, but it also said she’d be here to help when he couldn’t.

  Would the people tampering with his memories be able to see them? He didn’t want to get Armana in trouble, or embarrass her.

  She’d be so embarrassed, old man. You look like you could be the father of everyone here.

  Couldn’t his voices leave him alone for the day?

  Armana fell in step beside him and Jace caught up with Cassie.

  “Thanks for coming,” Gray said.

  “You don’t mind? I wasn’t exactly invited.”

  “Consider this my invitation. You saved me too many times to be left out.” And that was the truth.

  She wasn’t one of the Guardians, she was only the mother of one of them. Just like he was the father of one of their mates. But they were involved. They’d been forced to be involved and this was their penance. He wanted her strength. And a few more moments to soak up her presence.

  Jace stopped in front of a solid wood door and knocked.

  Gray didn’t hear if there was a reply, but Jace opened the door and ushered them all in.

  Commander Fitzsimmons was seated behind a sturdy desk full of papers, computers, and various pieces of electronics. His expression could be carved out of stone, except for the subtle lift of a brow as he eyed them. “Since you’re all here, I’m assuming you’ve guessed the Synod’s decision.”

  Jace let out a curse and Cassie’s shoulders fell.

  Gray rested his hand on her back. “The last thing I want is to be a security risk. If this is the way of your people, I won’t protest.”

  The commander’s expression slipped, revealing a stroke of compassion. A blink later it was gone. “I tried to explain the situation to them. How steady and reliable you’ve been.” His jaw clenched. “Then I pleaded the safety of the procedure with regard to your mind, but they say the memories will be essentially locked up. It won’t tamper with your brain in any way.”

  Cassie’s brow furrowed. “So, what, he won’t remember the last three days?”

  “The last four,” the commander answered. He pinned Gray with his no-nonsense stare. “We’ll take you home, let you get changed so we can take the clothing back. Your front door has already been fixed and the kitchen cleaned up. I had Doc call into your job as your doctor to clear you from the work you missed. You hurt your leg and the meds made your brain foggy. That’ll be the story.”

  “When can I talk to him next?” Cassie asked.

  “When he calls you. Until he makes contact, we stay out of it. It’s better for his mind that way.”

  Because he’d be trying to process the loss of time and why his leg hurt. What a mess. But…it was doable and he was hanging on to that.

  “Okay. I’m ready.”

  Chapter Nine

  Armana sank onto her bed, her head in her hands.

  That had been rough. She massaged her temples, struggling to keep her tears at bay. She’d expected a sad event, but not how personally devastated she’d feel losing Gray.

  She’d held it together while Gray had disappeared into his bedroom and emerged with an armload of clothing to hand over. Commander Fitzsimmons had been true to his word. The door had been fixed and the kitchen returned to its original state. It’d probably been done the same night to keep nosey neighbors from growing alarmed.

  Gray had shaken hands with Jace, then given her a perfunctory hug with a longing look that she’d understood to her soul. He’d wanted a proper goodbye and so had she, but they’d been restricted to a good-natured pat on the back. The departing hug between Cassie and Gray had been heartbreaking.

  Armana had left with Jace and Cassie so Commander Fitzsimmons and the shifter who manipulated memories could work on Gray. They’d said Gray would sleep long and hard and wake up disoriented. But the memory shifter had left clues, like a prescription and a doctor’s note from Doc. His new pill bottle and his old were nestled back in the cupboard with his vitamins. They’d dirtied dishes to set by the sink.

  They’d even visited Dr. Sodhi and tidied up his memory of Gray’s last appointment. How thorough.

  A knock at the door caught her attention.

  Jace stood outside, his eyes narrowed on her. “Can I come in?”

  “You don’t have to ask.”

  He stepped inside but didn’t take the spare chair she kept by the wall. As if she ever got company. She used the chair to tie her shoes on; that was its only purpose.

  “You took today kind of hard,” he said. His arms were crossed as he leaned against the doorframe.

  “Yeah. Gray’s a good man. I feel bad for Cassie.”

  “Nothing’s going to change between them.”

  “Isn’t it?” Armana snapped, then sighed. “Sorry. He lives a solitary life and he loves that girl of yours. I wish he could be involved more. It’s not like she has forever with him.”

  “None of us are guaranteed forever.”

  She stared at her son. When’d he become so hard? Prison? His job? Had breaking up families when he terminated rogues become such a common occurrence? “I know that. As nearly immortal beings, we know how long life is when we lose someone we love.”

  “Which is what brings me here.” He pushed off the door and wandered in. “You two seemed close.”

  “Did we.” It purposely didn’t sound like a question. It was all she could do not to be defensive, and she didn’t want to go two steps back with her son.

  “Yep.” His icy stare was on her, but she didn’t wither under it. He got it from both her and his father, and Bane had never been able to intimidate her. She refused to give her son the power. It wasn’t healthy between them. “I’m fond of Gray. He’s a good man, and I’m as worried as Cassie.”

  “Why?”

  Seriously? “Because I care about people, Jace.”

  He snorted and when she shot him a hard look, he clarified, “I’m trying to get past how easily you dumped me when I made a mistake. I’m trying to understand the reason why, and after that bastard who killed Dad almost got Maggie, I’m coming around. But this isn’t about our history.” He walked to her dresser where her ceremonial gladdus was set on the top. “What I’m asking is, have you dated since Dad died?”

  Jace couldn’t know. She and Gray had smelled like each other the morning he’d
picked them up, but there’d been another valid reason. Afterward, the desire they’d felt for one another had been buried by anxiety and relief that the danger was gone.

  Right?

  “Even in those rare moments I thought about dating again, I had kids to worry about. When Maggie moved out…” Armana lifted a shoulder. “I was preparing to move and start a new job and it seemed pointless.”

  She caught a glimpse of something rare in Jace’s eyes: empathy. It gave her hope that one day they could grow close again.

  “You seemed different around Gray.”

  She answered honestly. “I haven’t been able to make friends and he would’ve been a good one.”

  “Yeah,” he said gruffly. “Cassie’s napping, but I think she just wanted to cry in peace. Keeping our life from her dad has been hard. And now she knows what’s she missing, so…”

  “Go be there for her.”

  “Yeah.” He stared at the dagger. “I was thinking that maybe you should go visit Maggie for a while.”

  Armana cocked her head. What the hell brought that up? “Maggie’s busy with work.”

  “So am I, and that’s why I think it’d be good for you to get away for a bit.”

  She narrowed her eyes on him. He didn’t smell like he was lying, but he wasn’t saying everything. “What’s going on, Jace?”

  He finally glanced away, his gaze bouncing everywhere but her. “When I met you guys at the trailhead, I thought that I…that maybe I…you know, that you two…”

  Wasn’t this how they’d felt during that first birds and bees talk? An awkward conversation neither wanted to have? “And for argument’s sake, what if we had…you know…” Sweet Mother Earth, she couldn’t say it either.

  “I mean, it’d be weird, but you’re both adults. Whatever. But now it’s different. Cassie can still see and talk to him and you can’t, and I’ll be out on missions.”

  Armana straightened, her shoulders squared. “And you don’t want to worry about me on top of your mate.”

  His stony gaze finally landed on her. “If you two…then he’s different to you. And I can’t have you risk his mental status trying to contact him again.”

  The thought of staying with Maggie for the next several weeks shredded her nerves. She’d just lost Gray and had hoped to be around to support Cassie. If she went to Lobo Springs, she’d be alone again. She’d love to hang with her daughter, but Maggie was working and newly mated. Not to mention Armana had a hard time being in Lobo Springs for any amount of time. There was nothing like a stroll down memory lane to summon the pain and grief of all she’d almost lost herself to.

  She steeled herself. What she said next was going to hurt them both. “Jace, you of all people should know that I can sever ties with someone I care about. I think I’ll be fine here.”

  Jace flinched and blinked. There were the two steps back. She hadn’t sounded cavalier, but he was still recovering from her abandonment. There were no rules that said a kid had to be a child for their parent to hurt them, and she’d just ripped off the bandage.

  “No contact at all, Armana. None.”

  She bit her lip at his use of her first name. She hadn’t been Mom for a long time. It was like he tested it out once in a while, then went back to her first name. Pretty soon, she’d be Mrs. Miller. Or Troye, if she went back to using her real name.

  “I understand the importance, my son. I was making a point—”

  “Then we’re done here.” He stormed out.

  She closed her eyes and dragged in a shaky breath.

  ***

  Gray blinked awake. Light was fading in his room.

  Was it morning? It didn’t feel like morning. The shadows were long, leaving the area dim. The birds outside chirped a chorus at sunrise, but now they were relatively quiet. It was evening.

  He rolled up to a seat and winced. Prodding his temples did nothing for his pounding headache. Was that the reason he’d napped?

  Grunting from the effort, he swung his legs down and stood. He barked a yell and flopped back down. Bringing his left leg up, he lifted the hem of his jeans. Purple and green bruising circled his ankle.

  He frowned. Those were fading bruises and he didn’t remember getting injured in the first place.

  I sprained my ankle and the meds knocked me out. I’ve called into work and will return when I feel better.

  His brow creased as those two sentences ran through his head like a script.

  I sprained my ankle and the meds knocked me out. I’ve called into work and will return when I feel better.

  “Okay, got it,” he muttered. What meds?

  He rose to his feet, keeping his weight off his hurt foot. Limping across the room, his gaze snagged on the stairs.

  Good Lord, how was he getting down the stairs with the sprain? No wonder he’d relied on pain meds. Why hadn’t he gotten crutches?

  He grabbed the railing, hopped down a stair and sat down. Scooting down the stairs on his butt would get the job done, but he scowled back at the flight.

  Why hadn’t he gotten crutches?

  As he made his way to the kitchen, he relied on his injured limb more and more. He was healing and it wasn’t as bad as he first thought.

  But when had he fallen?

  His phone was on the counter. Why had he left it there?

  He looked at the screen. No messages, no missed calls.

  No surprise.

  He went into recent calls. There was one to work from this morning. He had zero memory of it.

  I’ve called into work and will return when I feel better.

  Yeah, okay. Work tomorrow. Could he do the whole shift on his feet? His boss was usually understanding when employees weren’t functioning at 100 percent and would find something for him to do sitting down.

  So…

  He inhaled and leaned on the counter. His stomach rumbled. Checking the time, his brows lifted. It was almost eight p.m. Had he missed lunch in addition to supper?

  His pill.

  He went to the cupboard and grabbed a glass for water and his pill bottle. His hand stalled. Two bottles were next to each other. When had he gotten a refill?

  He checked the date. Three days ago.

  He shook his head and took his dose. Anxiety climbed up his spine. Memory loss wasn’t a hallmark of schizophrenia. He was confident in the signs of a relapse and lately he’d been…

  What? What had he been feeling recently?

  Bored. Lonely. Those were standard. Either way, he was hungry. Might as well eat since he couldn’t answer what he didn’t know.

  He rummaged around the fridge. Opening the milk, he didn’t have to get close to smell it. Uck. He set it on the counter to drain and throw away later. Leftover meatloaf. That’d be a good meal for the evening.

  He searched for the container. Dammit. Had he eaten it in his pain-med stupor?

  Switching his attention to the cabinets, he located the empty and cleaned container the meatloaf had been in. Only it was in the wrong cupboard. Gray set it on the counter next to the milk and crossed his arms. How many days had he lost? He’d checked the time, but not the date.

  Pulling up the home screen on his phone, he swallowed hard at the date. He couldn’t remember the last four days. What medication had he been on?

  I threw out the bottle and decided not to take more.

  The thought rose like it was summoned, only he wasn’t sure he’d been the one to recall it. How odd. His voices weren’t usually so…foreign.

  Finding a loaf of bread that was still good, he tossed a couple of slices into the toaster and crossed his arms as he glowered at the small appliance.

  Whatever he’d done to hurt himself, he couldn’t do it again. Whatever medication he’d taken for pain, he couldn’t do it again. The risk to his mental health wasn’t worth it.

  Chapter Ten

  Three weeks later…

  Gray woke up on his back and stared at the ceiling. He had another round of snooze before he had to
get ready for work. Usually, he set his alarm early so he wouldn’t have to rush and get in a negative headspace. Sometimes, he’d meditate if the voices were quiet enough to keep it from an exercise in futility.

  His dreams… Every one had been full of pretty blue eyes and a sense of acceptance that he coveted. He awoke hard and achy like he’d never experienced before.

  Swinging his legs down, he scrubbed his face. If he started dreaming about meeting a woman who’d accept him as he was, he’d certainly succumb to the disease. There was being teased, and then there was torment. He could delude himself about his loneliness, lie and say it was for the best, that it was better to be alone than to get close to someone who’d only run when they learned about the voices and his previous breakdown.

  The woman. The freedom of being with her. He couldn’t go there.

  There’d been a cabin in his dreams, too, and it wasn’t one he remembered from his time living in the woods outside of Freemont.

  Brushing off the dreams the best he could, he got ready for work. But today he packed running clothes for after his shift. He’d started running again a couple of days ago. With his job and health insurance, he got a discounted membership to a gym and used it to lift. It’d been a good place to test his ankle. And if he had to endure another weekend of reruns and reading and being couch-bound, he was going to go crazy and not in a way that had to do with his illness.

  Today, he was running outside. He planned to find a trail and enjoy the great outdoors. Since he’d been dreaming about it, he’d give in and give his mind the vacation it was asking for.

  His mind had been strangely quiet since he’d woken with four days missing. At work, a voice would whisper the standard He thinks you don’t know what you’re talking about and then leave it at that.

  He didn’t dare hope that forgetting a chunk of his life had reset his disease to the beginning, when it hadn’t been as severe or as easily provoked.

  He should’ve kept that pill bottle.

  With his shorts and running shoes packed, he left for work. The day was the same as every day before it. He assisted a family with finding the right tent for camping by the lake.