Autumn's Blood: The Spirit Shifters, Book One

by Marissa Farrar

  AUTUMN GOT TO her feet, still pointing the gun which trembled in her grip. She’d never even held a weapon before, never mind fired one—she was a scientist for God’s sake!—but at that moment, she hadn’t doubted that she would have killed to save Blake. Her back and shoulder burned from where she’d grazed herself on the concrete while going for the gun.

  “You!”

  With astonishment, she realized that she recognized the guy now climbing off the dead man’s body. He was the same one who had stopped her on the way home.

  Blake spun to her. “You know him?”

  “Yes ... no ... Well, he helped me the other day.”

  The man gave a slow grin. “You can thank me later, Cuz. For now, I think we need to get out of here.”

  “We don’t need to do anything. You shouldn’t even be here.”

  “Others are coming. We can’t exactly hang out.”

  Autumn lowered the gun. “Others?”

  Blake turned to her. “There are more men on the other side of the building. And, as much as I hate to admit it, Chogan is right.”

  The other man jerked his head to the left, his long black hair flowing down one shoulder. “Come on, this way.”

  She looked to Blake for confirmation. He nodded and held his hand out to her. She slipped her free palm into his. The heat of his skin burned through hers in the cool evening. Together, the three of them ran down the alleyway until they reached a part where the building ended and a small patch of scrubland began.

  Chogan lifted up a part of a chain-link fence which separated them from freedom. “Quick, under here.”

  He climbed through first and then Blake pushed Autumn after. She clambered beneath on her hands and knees, her hair catching in the metal wire. Pain spiked through her scalp as she tore free, her hair unraveling from the knot she’d so carefully styled first thing that morning, leaving her curls hanging around her face. She lifted her head to find Chogan standing above her. The strange man reached down to help her up. She hesitated a moment, wondering if she could trust this new arrival, but took the offered hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

  Blake rolled beneath, a smooth movement for such a big man, and he pulled the fence back down, hiding the hole.

  “They’re coming,” he hissed.

  They stepped back into the dark shadows of the alcove of the adjacent building just as two more men, both carrying weapons, ran past on the other side of the fence. The small group waited for a moment for them to pass by, and then Chogan slid out of the shadows and took off across the patch of scrubland.

  Autumn and Blake exchanged a glance and followed.

  The area led out onto another street. They slowed to a fast walk so as not to stand out.

  “We don’t need you here, Chogan,” said Blake, keeping his voice low. “This doesn’t concern you.”

  “Could have fooled me. You’d probably be shot in the head right now if I hadn’t come along. Why are they after you, anyway?”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “No? Well, why do I have the feeling this has something to do with the missing shifters you were supposed to be checking up on?”

  Autumn looked between the two men like she was at a tennis match. “Missing shifters? You mean, like you are?” she asked Blake.

  Chogan interrupted. “Like we both are.”

  Her eyes widened. “You too?”

  “Yes.” He studied her. She shifted uncomfortably under the intensity of his gaze, so like Blake’s, but with a sharper edge. “And where exactly do you come into all of this?”

  Blake growled. “She doesn’t.”

  “No? Don’t lie to me, Cuz. I can smell your lies coming off you like bad cologne.”

  Blake’s hand pressed against the small of her back, the contact making her draw in a breath of surprise. “I don’t have time to explain all of this. Dumas’ men are going to discover the apartment empty, not to mention an unconscious man and a dead body, and figure out that we’ve been there and can’t be far. We need to concentrate on getting to safety and talk then.”

  Chogan seemed to weigh up his options. “Fine. I’ve got a hotel room. We can hole up there for the time being, and then you can tell me why these people want you and Blondie dead.”

  Autumn’s head snapped around at the name. “Actually, it’s Doctor Anderson to you.”

  He smirked and she got a glimpse of impossibly white teeth. “Is it now? Beauty and brains. My favorite combination.”

  Chapter Eleven

  THANKS TO THE wonder of Google, it hadn’t taken Mia long to pull up the position of the Wests’ apartment. Only one park lay in close proximity to their home, so this was where she intended to start her search for their missing son.

  She pulled her old, red Honda Civic into the parking lot opposite the old pavilion in Thatcher Woods then climbed out and headed off down one of the paths more often used by joggers or dog-walkers. The hour was getting late now, so she didn’t pass many other people. She’d wanted to try to capture what Toby might have been feeling or doing, while still being able to see. Her feet sank into the muddy ground of the floodplain, the Des Plaines River rushing peacefully by. On either side of her, oak trees rose gracefully into the sky, the wind rustling their branches as though they were taking part in a whispered conversation she wasn’t privy too. Mia wasn’t even sure what she was looking for—some kind of clue that might lead to the explanation of why Toby left his room in the middle of the night and where he was now.

  Due to the river running through the area, Thatcher Woods often suffered from flooding, which would explain the presence of the muddy footprints and Toby’s dirty feet. Of course, it still didn’t explain how he was getting in and out of his room in the middle of the night, but she hoped that would come to light.

  She spotted the green shirt and tan sunhat of one of the volunteers who helped maintain the park.

  “Excuse me?”

  The older man turned to her with a scowl until he caught sight of the young, pretty woman, and then his face brightened. He cleared his throat and wiped his palms on the front of his shirt. “Oh, hello, Miss. Can I help you?”

  Mia pulled a photograph of Toby West from her purse. “I wondered if you might have seen this boy. He’s been missing for nine days now, and he liked to come to the woods.”

  He peered in at the photograph. “Missing, you say?”

  She nodded.

  “No, I’m sorry, can’t say I have.”

  “It’s possible he came here at night time.”

  His lips pursed, his fat forehead furrowing in disapproval. “Night time?”

  She knew what he was thinking. The group of volunteers who maintained the park had recently removed a dilapidated concrete shelter from the woods to try to prevent groups of delinquents from gathering and drinking and taking part in not-so-welcome activities.

  “Oh, no, not like that,” she said hurriedly. “He just liked to walk.”

  “Hmm, well, I’m sorry, but he doesn’t look familiar to me.”

  “Are you working with others today? Might they be willing to take a look?”

  “Sure, though I think a few of them have probably called it a day. The rest will be all over the park. Might take you a while to get around them.”

  The park covered more than two hundred acres. Traipsing around trying to find a few persons would be like searching for individual pebbles on a beach. “Is there any way you can contact them for me? Perhaps ask them to meet me when they’re done?”

  “I suppose that would be okay.” He pulled a cell from his pocket and placed a number of calls.

  “Thanks,” she said, offering him a smile.

  He shrugged. “No problem. Though they might be awhile.”

  She thanked him again and kept herself busy by continuing her walkabout until the other volunteers showed up. She noticed surveillance cameras around the parking lot and restrooms, and wondered who she’d need to contact to gain access to the footage. T
here was a chance they might have picked up something.

  Gradually, a couple of other volunteers showed up and Mia ran through the same questions again. The result was the same. None had seen Toby or recognized his photograph. She sighed. It really did seem like he’d vanished into thin air.

  The last of the light began to vanish from the sky, the moon appearing as a ghostly circle in the indigo sky.

  Time to call it a day.

  Mia headed back to her car. Other than a couple of vehicles belonging, she assumed, to the volunteers, the parking lot was empty. She reaching into her purse and fished out her keys. As she reached her car, and went to select the correct key to open the door, she fumbled the key fob and dropped them on the asphalt. She bent to pick them up again.

  As she straightened, rough hands grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around, pinning her against the side of her car. She drew in a breath to scream, but a hand blocked her mouth. She found herself staring into the gray eyes of her attacker. Though she couldn’t see any other part of the man’s features, she noted distinctive gold flecks in the iris of his right eye. A black balaclava, like the type she’d expect to see in an old hold-up movie, covered the rest of his face.

  Immediately, her worst fear sprang to mind. Oh, God. I’m going to be raped. But then the man reached for her purse and she wondered if he planned on mugging her first.

  Her eyes flicked over his shoulder, desperately hoping someone else was around—if not one of the volunteer rangers, then a dog walker or jogger—but the place seemed to be deserted.

  To her confusion, he reached into her purse and pulled out the photograph of Toby West. He crumpled the picture in front of her face. “Stop asking about the boy,” he spat. “I’m warning you.”

  The man let her go and spun on his heels, taking off at a jog across the car lot and disappearing between the trees.

  He left her gasping with shock, the world blurring as tears filled her eyes. Sudden panic filled her as she wondered if he’d come back and finish the job, and she hit the button on her key fob to open the car. She fumbled with the handle a couple of times before dragged the door open, climbing inside, and slamming the door behind her. She locked the doors, her hands shaking.

  What the hell? Why on earth would someone warn her off asking about Toby? The only explanation was that the man had something to do with the boy going missing, but how would he know who she was or where she’d be? Also, that was pretty unusual behavior for someone who might be involved in the disappearance. Normally, she’d expect a perp to stay well out of the way, not confront someone in the daytime, and in a public place at that. The whole thing was off.

  She’d need to report the incident to the police, preferably the detective dealing with the case. If the person responsible for Toby going missing was still in the city, then there was a good chance Toby was as well.

  She took a deep breath and settled her hands on the wheel. Right now, she only wanted to be home. Safe. With people around her she trusted.

  Chapter Twelve

  CHOGAN’S HOTEL ROOM was clean and tidy, but modest. A double bed was neatly made, a small bottle of water positioned next to a glass on the bedside table. On the desk, opposite the bed, was a small flat screen television. None of his belongings littered any of the surfaces, no change of clothing or toiletries on the desk.

  “How did you get to the city?” Blake asked him, thinking he already knew the answer.

  “I ran,” he replied, confirming Blake’s suspicions. Being in wolf form made it difficult to carry luggage.

  Blake nodded his understanding. As wolves, they were able to move quickly and almost silently through the areas unpatrolled by police or security cameras. Taking wolf form wasn’t a bad idea. They could stay off the radar that way. Dumas’ men were less likely to find them than if they took a car and rode the highway.

  Autumn’s complexion was pale and she sank down to sit on the edge of the bed.

  “Are you all right?” Blake asked her, frowning.

  She nodded. “This is all just a lot to take in.”

  He reached out and picked up the bottle of water, twisted off the cap, and handed it to her. “Here, drink this.”

  She accepted the water with a grateful smile.

  “We should be safe here for the time being,” said Chogan. “So are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  Blake hesitated. He’d not seen Chogan for several years, and they’d not parted company on good terms. He didn’t trust the other shifter, even though they were blood related. But right now, he didn’t have the luxury of being picky; he wasn’t exactly swimming in allies. His thoughts turned to Haverly. He hoped the other man was all right.

  The problem was the last time he had spoken to Chogan, his cousin hadn’t exactly shared his—and most other shifters’—views about keeping their kind a secret. In Chogan’s mind, the world would be a better place if all humans were aware of the existence of their kind. He believed them to be stronger and more powerful than the rest of humanity. He didn’t seem to comprehend the fact that they would be forced to live like freaks.

  Blake decided half the truth would have to do. There was no need for his cousin to learn about the reason behind Dumas’ interest in Autumn. The idea made him shudder. God only knows what Chogan would do with such information.

  “The department I work for is holding three shifters captive,” he said, running a hand over the top of his head. Unable to contain his frustration, he began to pace the small floor space of the hotel room. Chogan stood by the window, his arms folded, his expression hard.

  Autumn straightened, her eyes wide. “What?”

  He’d forgotten this would be news to her as well. “I think one of them is the woman you were talking about, Chogan, the one from the reservation. She shifted into a panther. Does that sound right?” He looked to him for confirmation. From the way the other man stood, with his fists clenched, jaw tight as he glared at him, Blake assumed it did.

  “I’ll kill the bastards,” his cousin spat.

  Autumn leaned forward, her elbows rested on her knees, hands knotted together. “Where are they held captive?”

  “Containment Area Three. The bottom level beneath the building.”

  “The one only accessible by the fingerprint pad?”

  He nodded. “Right. Other than via the elevator, no one can get down there, so freeing them won’t be easy. The only possibility might be via tunnels which run beneath the building. They’re designed as a way to get Dumas and anyone else he considers important enough out, should the building come under some kind of attack. I’m not sure how we’d do it alone, but a distraction on the upper level might mean one of us could get to the shifters from below.”

  “Okay,” Chogan nodded slowly, “I think we can work with that. But how did they get the woman from the reservation to shift? She’s not a birth shifter, she shouldn’t be able to shift at will.”

  Blake hung his head and chewed at his lower lip. “Dumas and his men are torturing them to get them to shift. Electric shocks. They’ve got a boy as well—no more than fourteen, maybe fifteen years old. The woman shifted in order to stop the boy being tortured. They had her chained with cuffs on her wrists and legs and she broke every limb while she shifted.”

  Chogan turned away, shaking his head. “Jesus ...”

  Autumn stared at him in horror. “They’re torturing people? Right beneath where I was working? How the hell could you let them?”

  His head snapped around at her. “What was I supposed to do? I needed to find out what Dumas had planned. I needed to keep an eye on what you were doing.” He glared at her, hoping she’d understand he didn’t want her to share that particular part of the story with their new companion.

  She seemed to understand and backed down.

  Chogan lifted his chin in her direction. “So what’s she got to do with this whole thing?”

  “She’s nothing. She just got caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time.”<
br />
  He looked between them, as if trying to decide if this was the truth.

  “Well, what do we do now?” asked Autumn.

  “Sit pretty until we figure out what to do,” said Blake. “Rest up.”

  Chogan growled. “I’m not going to sit around and do nothing.”

  “We can’t do anything until the heat dies down,” Blake snapped. “So just cool it.”

  Hoping for distraction, he crossed the room and flicked on the television. A news article came on, nothing interesting. Then another reporter interrupted and a news reel ran across the bottom of the screen …

  “Breaking news. Local police in Chicago are warning citizens to be on their guard for this man…” A picture of Blake, sullen and threatening, flashed up on screen. “He is thought to be armed and dangerous after kidnapping renowned scientist, Doctor Autumn Anderson.” Now it was Autumn’s turn to have her face flashed on screen—a photograph of her, probably taken for a work ID at some time, wearing her suit and glasses, looking older than she did now. The reporter continued, “Sergeant Blake Wolfcollar kidnapped Doctor Anderson from the government building where she was working this afternoon, attacking one man and killing another. If you have any information about his whereabouts, please contact the number on screen below.” The reporter lowered his notes and peered intently into the camera. “Please, whatever you do, do not be tempted to approach this man yourself. He is armed and considered extremely dangerous.”

  Blake stared around. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

  Chogan looked to Autumn with fresh suspicion in his eyes. “So what are they so caught up about you for Blondie. A scientist, huh? What kind of scientist?”

  Blake glared at her, but this time she didn’t get the hint. “I’m a molecular geneticist.”

  “So, basically someone who works on DNA?” His eyes narrowed. “What are you not telling me, Cuz?”