He’d snuck in behind them!
Autumn realized their mistake. They should have checked the rest of the floor was clear first.
Blake spun around, gun pointed.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said Dumas. “One step forward … In fact, if you so much as breathe in the wrong direction, I’m going to blow her pretty little head off.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” said Blake, his eyes burning with anger. “You need her too much.”
“Do I? Do I really? ‘Cause the way I see it, I could blow her to pieces and simply mop up her blood to use. I can employ enough scientists to recreate whatever is in her blood that made the human DNA change. Then I’ll have no use for her whatsoever.”
“You’ll have no use for her if you’re dead. I promise you, if you harm her, I will track you down and rip you apart, piece by piece.”
Dumas laughed, but his grip tightened around Autumn’s throat, the muzzle of the gun jammed painfully into her temple. “Those are big words for a big man, I’ll give you that much. But honestly, what do you expect to happen right now? That you’ll threaten me and I’ll just let her go running back into your arms? And what is this all about anyway? Why the sudden protection? I thought you loved your country, Blake. I thought you wanted us to succeed at this. Think of all the men you’ve lost in battle over the years. Wouldn’t it have been so much better if they could have seen the enemy coming or if they missed something and were injured, that their injuries healed within a matter of hours so they could go back to their positions? Surely that is better than soldiers coming home as injured, broken men suffering from PTSD and no good to anyone?”
“I do want that, but not the way you’re trying to achieve it, Dumas. Those people aren’t freaks. They don’t deserve to be treated as such. What you’ve been doing to them—to a woman, to a boy, for God’s sake—is barbaric.”
“So this has nothing to do with catching yourself a bit of blonde ass? It wasn’t that you were worried our little scientist here was going to end up in one of the holding cells beside these people you suddenly care so much about? And please don’t make out like you’re some kind of innocent. You’ve been in the field, you know about taking sides and doing whatever is necessary for your country. You betrayed yours the day you decided to take the wrong side instead of working for your own.”
“Those people are still American citizens! They deserve our protection.”
“They’re not even people. They deserve nothing!”
Blake gritted his teeth and Autumn watched him trying to get a grip on himself. Was she imagining things, or did she just see a ring of gold light glow from edges of his otherwise dark pupils?
“I don’t care about any of that anymore,” Blake said. “Just let Autumn go.”
“Sorry, Blake. I liked you once, but you’ve betrayed your country. Now drop your weapon and kick it over to me.”
“Don’t do it, Blake,” she managed to croak.
“Slowly,” Dumas warned.
She saw the hesitation on Blake’s features, the way his eyes darted over Dumas and herself, trying to figure out if he’d be able to get a clean shot. But even though Dumas was a tall man, Autumn was also tall, offering him almost full body protection.
“Damn it.” With his free hand held up in surrender, Blake bent and dropped the gun to the floor.
“Now kick the gun over here.”
Blake raised his booted foot and kicked the weapon so it slid over to stop at Dumas’ feet.
Autumn’s eyes flicked to where she’d dropped her own gun, the one stolen from the security guards. Perhaps Dumas wouldn’t notice.
But he was too smart for that. Yanking her down with him in a choke hold that felt like her esophagus would be bruised for weeks, he ducked down and grabbed both weapons, tucking them into the waistband of his suit.
Dumas backed out, taking Autumn with him. He dragged her down the corridor.
Autumn battered at his arms. “Let go of me, you son of a bitch,” she said, her voice hoarse.
“Shut up. Not a word or I’ll do exactly as I said and blow your head off.”
A familiar sound reached her ears, a cracking, followed by a howl of pain.
“What the fuck was that?” Dumas slowed, his head darting one way and then the next, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from.
The mournful howl of a wolf echoed down the corridor.
Oh no, Blake, don’t do it, she prayed.
“What the fuck?” Dumas’ arm loosened from around Autumn’s throat, and she took the opportunity to slip from his grasp, and grabbed for the gun.
She felt the blast of hot air scrape her cheek before she heard the shot. The bang left her ear ringing and she fell to the ground, certain she’d been badly wounded. Behind her, she heard the crack of glass as the bullet punctured the window at the end of the corridor.
She just had time to touch her hand to her cheek before Dumas grabbed her again, hauling her to her feet. Her fingers came away bloodied, but she was relieved to find the wound to only be a scratch.
“You stupid little bitch,” he snarled. “Don’t you ever…”
His words trailed off as his eyes locked on something, widening in fear. From around the corner of his office door, a huge silver wolf prowled, dwarfing the corridor.
“What the …?” He started to take uncertain steps backward. Finally, the penny dropped. “Blake?”
The wolf lowered to a crouch and at leapt at Dumas. Dumas turned the gun from Autumn and fired, one, two, three times. Blake’s body jerked with every shot, but he kept coming, blood dripping on the floor, and landed on Dumas, his massive paws planting on the man’s chest, knocking him backward. Dumas flew back and hit the already damaged window at the end of the corridor. The window exploded in a thousand splintered pieces and the general vanished through the gap.
Just short of the gaping hole, Blake dropped to the floor.
“Oh God, Blake!” Autumn ran to his side.
Unconscious, his wolf’s body shifted back to human, leaving him lying on the floor, bleeding and naked. A puncture wound gaped in his shoulder, another in his stomach, and a third grazed his bicep. The sight of the wounds made Autumn want to weep. I need to get help!
Movement at the opposite end of the corridor drew her attention and she lifted her head, tears blurring her eyes. Unsure of what she was seeing for a moment, she swiped at the tears, clearing her vision. But the thing she saw standing in the hallway didn’t change.
A massive mountain lion regarded her with solemn, golden eyes.
She gave a cry of shock, forgetting what they were for a moment. But then a young woman raced around the corner, coming to a sudden halt right behind the beast.
“Mia!”
Her friend didn’t show any reaction at the mountain lion. Instead, she ran past it, toward where Autumn was still crouched on the floor beside a now human Blake.
“Autumn! Oh, thank God you’re all right.”
Mia dropped to her knees beside her and they fell into each other’s arms, tears rolling down both of their faces.
“What the hell is going on here?” asked Mia, pulling away. “I can hardly believe this is real.” She focused on the naked, bleeding man on the floor and lifted a hand to her mouth. “Did you shoot him?”
“No! Of course not.” She realized Mia had made the assumption from what she must have seen on the news. “Blake is one of the good guys.”
An iron tang filled her nostrils. The sticky pool of blood forming on the floor beneath his body scared her, his skin turning pale, his breath shallow. “We need help. Do you have your phone?”
Behind them, the mountain lion snarled, pawing at its face as if something was bothering it. Bones cracked and the creature began to shrink, its ears folding back into its head, tail curling back in on itself to vanish between its legs. The fur melted from its body and the amber eyes darkened to a green-gray.
The man straightened.
Pete
r Haverly!
He stood naked before her, his body more thickly muscled than she’d ever given him credit for beneath the suit and lab coat. But in her mind, he was still her superior and the sight brought heat to her cheeks. She glanced over at Mia to find her staring, her dark eyes wide.
“There are phones in the offices,” he said, already striding toward one of the open doors. “I’ll call an ambulance.”
The distant alarms in the building were overtaken by the wail of police and ambulance sirens from outside. Of course, someone would have seen Dumas’ plunge from the window.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I think they’re already here.”
Chapter Twenty-five
IN THE CHAOS, Chogan slipped out and merged with the increasingly growing crowd. He hunched his shoulders and ducked his neck, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. Cops barged past, trying, ineffectively, to force people to stay back while they entered the building. From what he could hear, they weren’t yet sure what was going on inside, only that there had been a “disturbance” and possible gunshots fired.
He’d already sent a human Enyeto to the subway station Blake had told the captive shifters to run to. The bear-shifter had been instructed to take the others to the nearest police station, briefing them on the way about what to say—that General Maxim Dumas was the one responsible for their incarceration and subsequent torture. Though Chogan’s instinct was to get the other shifters away from here, he didn’t want Blake to be held responsible. They needed the testimonials of the captive shifters to clear his cousin’s name. Plus, they should be reunited with their families and might even need medical attention. Chogan could do neither of these things.
He lay low, waiting for the initial uproar to disperse. After ten minutes or so, a couple of paramedics carried Blake out on a stretcher, handcuffed to the metal handle of the equipment. The sight tore Chogan. He wanted to make sure his cousin was all right, but he still wanted to complete his task. Blake locked eyes on him in the crowd, but said nothing. Autumn was hauled out right after, no handcuffs this time, but still with a cop holding her hands behind her back while she struggled and yelled at them to let her go.
A dark-haired girl and a slightly older man followed after, also flanked by police. The girl, teary-eyed and pale, kept shooting glances at the man as if she thought he might vanish.
A middle-aged man in a dark suit climbed the steps to address the crowd. One of the reporters pushed forward, microphone held in hand. “Detective Phillips, what can you tell us about what happened here today?”
The man shook his head. “Not much yet, I’m afraid. We can confirm there has been one fatality. Though the cause of death is probably from falling several stories down to street level, we’re as yet unsure of the circumstances leading up to it. Several people have also been found with gunshot wounds, but, as yet, there are no further deaths to report. We’re hoping it will stay that way.”
“What about the reports of wild animals being on the loose?” the reporter asked. “Can you confirm if they’ve all been captured and where they came from? Did a zoo forget to lock its gates?”
The crowd gave a nervous chuckle at the comment.
Detective Philips didn’t seem to find anything funny. He frowned. “So far, there have been no signs of any wild animals, despite numerous reports. We’re currently assuming that part of what happened here was simply a hoax.”
A murmur rose around the crowd, one of disbelief this time. Many of them had seen the giant eagles for themselves.
“Detective?” another reporter called out, but the man shook his head.
“That’s it for the moment, folks.”
He walked down the steps, hands held up as if in defense, as people bombarded him with further questions. He got into the passenger side of an unmarked car and the car pulled away from the curb, following already departed colleagues down the street.
Chogan took a deep breath, steadying his nerves, and jogged up the few steps to the entrance of the building. It dawned on him that he not only stood in place of the detective, but was also in the same position the silver-haired man he now knew to be General Maxim Dumas had been only a couple of days earlier. Behind him, a strip of yellow police tape barred the doors of the government facility.
More reporters had gathered, some giving live feed to the news channels. He spotted the redhead he’d spoken to earlier and deliberately made eye contact with her.
“Do you want that exclusive now?” he yelled.
She frowned, but nudged her cameraman and nodded over to him.
Happy the film was rolling, Chogan raised his voice and called across the crowd.
“I know you’re all wondering what happened here today. Strange stories of giant animals—eagles, wolves, and bears. It’s time the truth came out.” He locked his eyes on the camera, speaking to the people beyond. “Those of you who are my brothers and sisters, you might have already guessed part of what happened here today. No longer should we be forced to live in the shadows, to hide ourselves away as though we’re freaks. What happened in the building behind me is nothing short of an atrocity—shifters were being tortured! We should be the ones at the top of the food chain, the ones ruling the rest of humanity. Don’t be ashamed of what you are any longer. Stand up, speak out, show them what you really are …”
A mutter came from the crowd. “The guy is clearly a loon.”
The producer spoke to the reporter. “This is a freaking waste of time.”
But the redhead shook her head. “No, wait. Just see what he’s going to say.”
“You can’t be serious, Annabel?”
Chogan continued, unfazed by the negative comments. Another thirty seconds and they’d all be eating their words.
“Fellow shifters, take this footage and spread it far and wide. Upload it to every website, send it viral. Let everyone know what we are is real.”
With that, he called his wolf to him. Its force soared toward him through the atmosphere. He lowered his head as it hit, a smash of energy. As always, his wolf was eager to shift. Where other guides might have been cautious because of what Chogan was attempting to do, therefore holding themselves back from the change, all Chogan’s wolf wanted was to exist for real.
His neck cracked, pain searing through his body. The surface of his skin burned as though a million bees were stinging him. He gritted his teeth, bearing the agony by internalizing it—as he did every time—but by now they were beginning to elongate, his nose protruding as a snout. Ears uncurled from the top of his head and instantly his hearing grew sharper. Every joint in his arms and legs snapped, wrenching into positions they had never meant to take. Skin splitting at the base of his spine signaled the growth and unfurling of his tail. His body yanked and jerked, forcing him onto all fours.
Distantly, he was aware of the cries of alarm, shock, disbelief, horror even, rising from the crowd.
His clothes fell, unrecognizable, from his body. The change was complete.
Chogan lifted his wolf’s head and howled.
Chapter Twenty-six
AUTUMN SAT AT Blake’s hospital bedside, her fingers linked with his on top of the white starched sheet, her eyes trained on his face.
He’d recovered consciousness when the ambulance had arrived, but then sunk back again in the back of the vehicle. He’d not woken again since.
She stared at the backs of his eyelids, at the network of light blue capillaries shielding his eyes, and prayed they would open. The sheet barely covered his naked torso, though bandages wrapped around his abdominals, chest, and across one shoulder where he’d been shot. Circles of monitors to trace his heart rate had been attached to his chest, and IVs plugged the veins in his arms.
The sight of him looking so vulnerable filled her with dread. What if he didn’t recover?
No. She kept reminding herself of one of the reasons Dumas had been so interested in shifters—their ability to heal quickly. Blake was strong. He would come back from th
is.
The doctors said it was normal for his body to shut down in order to recover from the gunshot wounds. Plus, he had lost a large quantity of blood and was running a temperature of one hundred and four degrees, something Autumn suspected was down to his shifter genetics rather than the infection the doctors were treating with a high dose of IV antibiotics.
At least the handcuffs attaching him to the bed had been removed. The police had taken Autumn’s statement, explaining how Blake hadn’t kidnapped her—she’d gone of her own free will—and that Dumas’ death was down to self-defense. That, together with the back-up statements from Peter Haverly, Mia, and the three captive shifters, explaining how Dumas had been the one to do the kidnapping, had quickly cleared Blake’s name.
She had done her best to try to explain things to a baffled Mia. Her friend was relieved to learn Toby West was safe, though much of the rest of the story left her with her mouth hanging open in disbelief. Autumn noticed her incredulity hadn’t stopped her friend from allowing Peter Haverly to take her under his metaphorical—in his case—wing. Mia, though stunned, didn’t seem to mind the obvious interest he was showing her.
Autumn glanced down to see Blake’s eyelids flickering. His fingers tightened around hers.
“Blake?” Her heart hitched in hope.
His eyes opened fully and she found herself with a stupid grin plastered on her face, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Autumn … you’re safe.” His voice came out as a croak. “You’re here.”
She squeezed his hand, her voice choked with emotion. “Where else would I be?”
His eyes locked on hers. “What happened?” As he spoke, he seemed to grow stronger.
“You were shot. They brought you to hospital, remember?”
But he shook his head. “No, I mean what happened with Chogan? What did Chogan do?”
She didn’t want to tell him, worried the news would set his healing back. Earlier, the small television mounted on the wall in the corner had been on, feeding the news report into the room. She’d switched the box off, unable to stand to watch any longer. Terrified about what it might mean.
Autumn's Blood: The Spirit Shifters, Book One Page 20
