by Amelia Jade
“It’s not your house,” he snarled. “We built it. We own it. You are simply a tenant. One who is rapidly overstaying her welcome. Be careful who you threaten.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not afraid of you.”
He whirled and advanced on her quickly. Erika backed up until she bumped into the wall. Without hesitating the shifter drove his fist into the wall next to her head, leaning in close to her. “You should be,” he whispered. “If you had any brains, you’d be asking politely for my forgiveness. You have no idea how I can hurt you. What I can do to you.”
“I know you’re dead if you touch me,” she said, refusing to bow to his intimidation. “You talk about having brains, but that would be a pretty dumb move on your part.”
She expected him to get angrier with her, but instead he just laughed.
“You poor, naïve little thing. Do you truly think that killing you is what I seek? I could have arranged that two or three times already since the ball. No,” he assured her, “you won’t die. That would be far too short a punishment for defying me.” His smile grew wider. “Feel free to test me out and see. But I promise that you…and your child, would regret it.”
Her face drained of blood and she wrapped a hand around her belly. The shifter laughed again at her reaction.
“I hear the streets are warm in the summer. But how are they in the cold of winter?” He grinned, and headed for her door. “Do yourself a favor. Cut things off with him. This is your last warning. It’ll be easier that way.” The shifter shrugged, looking around her empty unit once more. “After all, we don’t have him, and he isn’t here now. When someone just threw a rock through your window? Some person he must be.”
With that, the shifter left, closing the front door with surprising care behind him. Through the hole that used to be her window she could hear him laugh once more, the sound fading away as he walked down her the short sidewalk in front of her house.
Erika locked the door behind him, for all that would do against a determined shifter, and stood there, contemplating his words. He was right, in several senses. It would be easier to call things off with Harden, to tell him that they weren’t a thing any longer. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about consequences to her and the child within her.
She caressed her stomach reflexively. The baby was what mattered most. What she had to think of in the long run was its well-being. She couldn’t bring it into a world where she had to fear for its safety. What if these assholes killed Harden and she was left on the streets with nothing once the baby was born? What kind of mother would she be then?
Worse, what if they kick me out before the baby is born? If I can’t feed myself, or find shelter…
There was no good outcome. Either she lived with Harden and took her chances, putting her baby into danger, or she lived with the pain that his absence from her life was likely to cause. She could do that, Erika realized. If it came down to the well-being of her child, she would put it above herself. In an instant.
For the first time she truly understood what it meant to be a parent, to be a mother carrying her helpless baby within her, and the lengths that she would go to protect it. Images of shows she’d watched as a child came to mind, of parents of wildlife throwing themselves at anything that came near their babies, no matter the cost to themselves. She’d not understood that before on an instinctive level.
Now she did.
She walked over to the phone and dialed a number she knew by heart by now.
“Hello?”
“Kel, it’s me. I need you.”
“On my way.”
The phone went dead with a click, and she put it down before settling onto her couch to await her friend’s arrival. It didn’t take long; she only lived four doors down.
“What the hell?”
She heard Kelly notice the broken window as she approached, a somewhat hesitant knock on the door following shortly thereafter, as if Kelly was unsure what to do.
“Erika?” she called, her voice carrying in through the window.
She opened the door, and as she did, the tears began to fall.
“Oh no,” Kelly said, sweeping into the house like a whirlwind and snatching Erika up. “What happened? Come on, let’s go. Sit down.”
Letting herself be guided to the couch, Erika worked to get herself under enough control so that she could fill Kelly in on what had happened. Her best and only friend thoroughly listened as she talked, only asking questions to clarify or for further detail when absolutely necessary.
“So these assholes have something against Harden simply because of where he came from?” she asked in disbelief. “I mean, he looks just like them!”
“Apparently he smells different,” she said. Both of them looked at each other for a moment and then shrugged. They couldn’t detect a difference. Had to be a shifter thing.
“You’d think, in this day and age, that we could move beyond such things. I mean, we’re not residents of Cloud Lake, but they’ve welcomed us here with open arms. We could theoretically go to other places. Harden, if I understand, has nowhere to go at all!”
Erika nodded. “Yes, he’s homeless. His home was destroyed by the Institute, just like they tried to do to Cadia. He told me there are, to his knowledge, nine shifters left. He suspects there are more scattered about, but he only knows of the nine, including himself.”
“Nine,” Kelly whispered angrily. “And these douchebags won’t let him find a place in Cadia?”
She shook her head. “They seem dead set against it. Why else throw a rock and then come threaten me once they’ve lured him away?”
Kelly nodded. “Speaking of which, where is he now?”
Erika crossed her arms. “Exactly. I wish I knew. He told me to get back into the bedroom, and then I haven’t heard or seen him since. That was over an hour ago.”
“What the fuck! Okay, so what’s the plan?”
She bit back tears. “I need to do what’s best for the baby. I have to think of it before I do myself. That means ensuring that he or she is provided for, safe, and doesn’t have to worry about others coming after him. No matter what.”
“I understand,” Kelly said immediately.
“Thank you,” she whispered, embracing her friend.
There was a knock at the front door, and she nearly jumped out of the sofa.
Can’t handle the knocks anymore.
Getting up, she tiptoed over to the door, leaning forward to look through the peephole.
“Shit,” she hissed, pulling back swiftly.
It was Harden.
He knocked again. “Erika, I know you’re in there,” he said, sounding slightly confused, probably not understanding why she hadn’t opened the door.
Kelly mimed answering the door and waving goodbye. She was right. It wasn’t going to be easy, but Erika had to end it cleanly. She couldn’t just avoid him. Steeling herself, she unlocked the door and opened it just enough for her face to show.
Harden was already stepping forward, but he paused when she didn’t open the door completely. His eyes darted past into the house, and then fixed on her once more.
“I’m not coming in, am I?” he asked dully, realization sinking in.
“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head.
“You don’t have to do this,” he protested. “We can make it work.”
Tears built in her eyes, clouding her vision no matter how hard she blinked. “It’s not for me,” she told him, fighting back the sobs that threatened to emerge.
His nose started to go wild, and he opened his eyes wide. “They came again, didn’t they? While I was gone?”
She nodded, unable to speak.
“Shit. And you’re going to do as they say then?”
Erika nodded. “I’m sorry, Harden,” she whispered, her voice wavering even at that level. “I am. But I have to think of my baby first. I need him or her to be safe and cared for. I can’t live with worrying if it’ll be hurt because of you and me. Yo
u have to understand that, you have to believe me, it’s not because I don’t care. I’m just doing what I have to.”
Anguish filled his pale green eyes.
“Please don’t do this,” he pleaded.
“I’m sorry.”
She shut the door.
Chapter Seventeen
Harden
“Then she closed the door in my face.”
He swirled the beer around and then tossed back the rest of the oversized glass with a smooth fluidity, as if he’d done it many times before.
“Shit.”
“Exactly.”
He was sitting in the embassy bar with the grayish-blond-haired shifter whose name he still didn’t know, telling his story. It pained him immensely that he had failed her. It angered him that it was all his fault. If he’d gone back, handed the punk kid off to the bear shifter, and gone right back to Erika, he could have headed off the visit by Angelo and maybe stopped the entire thing in its tracks. Instead, because of the darkness welling up inside of him, he’d nearly killed the kid and had been so wrapped up in that he’d somehow managed to forget about her.
“You can’t blame yourself for this,” the bear shifter said. “As much as it seems logical too. But you aren’t responsible for the demons in your head. Those are the Institute’s fault, and this whole situation is Angelo and his sycophants’ fault. If they weren’t such bigots, you would never have had to leave her in the first place, and there wouldn’t be an issue.”
Harden nodded. “I know, I know. But that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.” He reached over the bar and refilled his beer glass. “I just wish I had the money I left in Kronum. If I could provide for her, then she wouldn’t have to worry about the threats from him. It’s not like they would ever hurt her, right? It’s just me they would be after. I can handle myself.”
“I know you can. But she has to worry about you. Has to wonder every day if you’ll make it home, or if someone is going to throw another rock, or something worse, into your house. Just having money alone wouldn’t be enough to fix this, Harden, no matter how much you wish it was.
“I know,” he sighed, angry with himself. “Intellectually, I know that. But it’s an easy way to vent. And it would be better off if she didn’t have to survive on the generosity and goodwill of pricks like Angelo in the first place.” He slapped a hand down on the bar. “It’s basically blackmail, you know that, right? Providing a place for these women, free of charge. You can get whatever you want out of them, because they know they can’t do anything or risk losing funding. Just like Erika.”
The shifter on his left sighed. “I know, Harden. It’s tough. But at the same time, it’s far better than just leaving them to fend for themselves. We didn’t make a single one of them come here. Many chose to go home, to families that they hoped would help support them. We sent money to them as well, you know.”
He hadn’t known.
“Listen, I’m not trying to call Cadia assholes for what you did,” he said. “I get it. It’s better than the alternatives, and when there were so many of them, you have limited options. I get it. I just hate how it’s being used against Erika.”
“Unfortunately, any system is exploitable if you’re detestable enough,” the other shifter snarled, reaching over the counter to refill his own beer. “And Angelo and his ilk certainly are that.”
Harden just snorted in agreement as they both drank in silence for several minutes.
“What are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know,” he answered. “I need to fix this. To make it right, somehow. To figure out a way that we can be together, and so that those who feel I don’t belong in Cadia get their panties out of a knot. There has to be some way I can accomplish both.” He frowned. “But I won’t be able to do that back in Cadia. I need to be here, to stay here to do that.”
“Isn’t the bus leaving in like an hour?”
Harden nodded. “Yeah, eight on the dot. I need to figure out how to finagle it so that I can stay in Cadia until next weekend. A week will hopefully give me enough time to sort this out, to find a solution to all the problems of those involved.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm, elbow on the bar itself. “Now, how the hell do I stay here, without getting caught?”
“Won’t happen,” his mystery friend said immediately, in a tone that brooked no argument.
Harden looked up at him, but he shook his head. “If you’re going to do this, you need to do it right. Breaking the law is only going to make you look more guilty of something. You have to go by the rules, or they’ll have more ammunition to come after you with.”
“Shit.” He was right. “Okay, how do I do this then?”
“Come on,” the other shifter said, downing his beer and standing up.
“What? Where? I have work to do,” he protested.
“Now.” The word was a command, not a request.
Harden downed his beer and hopped up from the barstool. “Where are we going?”
No answer came, and he followed as they made their way out of the bar and headed down the hallway filled with offices. His friend stopped at one labeled Ambassador and told Harden to wait outside.
He did, pacing up and down, so lost in his own thoughts of Erika and of his former home he didn’t even listen to what was said inside. A few minutes later the door opened and his friend pointed inside. “Tell him what you told me. He’s going to ask you some questions. Best of luck. I did what I could.”
“Thank you,” Harden said, stunned that the other shifter had gone to bat for him, just like that, throwing his own weight behind Harden’s request to stay behind.
“Just don’t make me regret it,” he growled, and then headed back toward the bar.
To Harden’s right, the door hung open. He knocked.
“Come in,” came Andrew’s voice, the gryphon shifter who had interfered the other morning.
Swallowing hard, he steeled himself. With a deep breath he pushed his way into the office, closing the door again.
“Mr. Archer,” Andrew said, leaning back in his desk.
“Mr. Raskell.” He paused. “Um, Ambassador Raskell? I’m sorry, I’m not sure how I should address you.”
The tall shifter shuddered. “Definitely not Ambassador. Please no. I hate it. That moniker is best suited only for formal occasions with politicians who I can’t stand. You are not one of those, so Mr. Raskell, or just Andrew, if you please.” The gryphon extended an arm and gestured for him to sit.
“Uh, thanks, Andrew,” he said somewhat awkwardly, sliding into one of the wooden chairs, listening to it creak under his body weight.
“Yeah, the chairs aren’t exactly heavy-duty, so be gentle on them,” he said, pointing to a pile of firewood in a corner that looked like the remnants of former chairs.
“Got it,” he said, staying as still as he could.
“So, I’m told you wish to extend your stay in Cadia through till next weekend, but that you haven’t secured a place to stay from a resident of Cloud Lake.”
“Um, yes. I mean, that’s correct,” he said, feeling nervous. This was his one shot to state his case. Andrew was already somewhat on his side, but he needed to give him all the evidence, and all of his reasoning. Even the part that he’d dared not share with anyone.
“Why is that?”
The blunt question came straight at him, not hidden in any odd phrasing. Just straight and to the point. Harden found himself liking Andrew.
“I need to make something right,” he said immediately, without hesitation. “A woman I care for has been wronged, and is under the impression that being with me would be a bad idea for her and her child’s safety.”
“Is she wrong?”
Harden paused, wondering how he should word his answer. Andrew, almost as if he could read his mind, narrowed his eyes ever so slightly at the delay. Lying would do him no good, he realized. He would simply be called out, and then told to go home, having lost any support from Andrew
that he might have had.
“No,” he said heavily, sagging forward slightly. “Not entirely. As far as I can tell, she’s not in any physical danger. But she could lose her access to the funding Cadia is providing to the Institute women. And her housing, and likely any help from anyone in Cloud Lake.” He sighed, feeling defeated.
“So what do you plan to accomplish in your week here?”
Anger surged through him at his own helplessness to answer the question. “I don’t know,” he snarled. “All I know is that I can’t do jack shit back in Cadia except probably get jumped by even more of those punks and get my ass kicked, or even killed. Here at least I stand a chance, no matter how small, of figuring out a way to get them off my back and to win the girl.” He locked eyes with the gryphon. “That’s all I’m asking for, Andrew. Is a chance. A chance to convince her things will work out between us. A chance to show people that I’m not a threat to Cadia, that I’m fine. A chance for me to heal.”
Andrew’s eyes narrowed some more at his last words. “To heal? You look healed to me,” he remarked thoughtfully.
“I’m fine physically. It’s in here,” he said, tapping his head. “That’s…that’s where I’m not all right.”
Andrew nodded. “Tell me.”
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Thought about not answering, then shook his head to clear it. “Oh hell. You may as well know the truth. Someone should.” Harden took a deep breath. “You are aware of the torture I suffered at the hands of the Institute?”
Andrew nodded soberly. “Yes. Terrible thing, that. We’ve used it before, even I have used it, I am ashamed to say. But never anything like that. Nobody should be treated so poorly.”
“Oddly enough, I agree with you,” he said weakly. “Well, I’ve healed from that. I can do everything I need to. But, at some point during the torture,” he explained, forcing the words out as his throat constricted. “At some point,” he repeated, forcing himself to be stronger, “my brain snapped. My wolf…it left me.”
“Left you?” Andrew asked in disbelief.
“Yes,” he admitted, admitting his deepest secret, the one that he was positive was the reason nobody wanted him to stay in Cadia. He was a defect, malformed and imperfect. “I can’t shift,” he whispered, fighting back tears of pain and defeat. “I tried so hard. Every day. I still do. But nothing.”
