Natalie opened her mouth to reply, but the sound of wheels hitting the gravel outside at a fast speed had both of them heading for the front door.
“Someone is in quite the hurry,” Mrs. Bamey said softly as she pulled open the door and peered outside. It was her husband’s truck returning, and she knew that Davey Berdine was driving it. The poor elder’s vehicle was out of commission until they could get it towed from the woods, and Richard was kind enough to let him use their old clunker for the time being. However, why he was returning from a trip to town in such a rush had her worried.
“Do you smell that?” Natalie asked as she rested her cheek against the doorframe. A cool breeze swept past her nose and her pulse quickened.
“Yes,” Mrs. Bamey’s eyebrows furrowed. “What is that smell, Natalie?”
Natalie did know that scent. She recognized it as a terrible combination that had been created by a mad scientist. It was an abomination that hadn’t ended well in the past. It caused ice to form in her heated veins as her nails clawed at the floral wallpaper near the doorframe. She sucked in a sharp breath and her worries of leaving Kadenburg were soon forgotten.
“We have a very serious problem, Charlotte. You need to wake up Richard.”
–––––––-
Dimitri emerged from the bedroom as soon as the scent hit his nostrils. At first he thought it was a dream within a dream, forever lost in the depths of his mind. Sometimes he could remember scents from the past, like his mother’s perfume; but this was a smell he didn’t welcome and it clutched at his heart.
His lungs ached from the familiarity. The hairs on his arms stood on end as he pulled open the bedroom door and stalked into the hallway, rushing past a very sleepy eyed Presley.
“What’s going on?” She asked softly, yawning.
“It’s not good,” Dimitri promised as he glanced at her. “Stay in there for a bit, okay?”
“…Okay,” Presley replied hesitantly, frowning.
“Just…let me figure it out first. Please?” He stopped briefly, turning to face her. His instincts were rarely wrong, and something told him that what was about to enter the Bamey house would change the way everything would play out. For better or worse, he couldn’t be too sure…but he didn’t want it around Presley. She was going to have a baby and he’d made a promise to himself he’d protect that unborn child. Why? He didn’t really have an answer yet. It just felt like the right thing to do.
After staring at him for a few seconds, Presley finally complied. She shut the bedroom door and he could hear Lorcan’s muffled murmurs of confusion. They could talk about it amongst themselves-that was for the best right now. As long as Presley remained distracted and out of harm’s way, Dimitri would be able to focus on the new problem being carried in by Richard Bamey and Arnold Goult.
As soon as his bare feet hit the flooring of the living room, Dimitri was overwhelmed by feelings he hadn’t experienced in many, many years. Fear, panic, and desperation locked like a vice around his lungs as he reached out to catch himself against the wall. Something wasn’t right.
The ruckus of Mr. Bamey and Presley’s uncle arguing back and forth barely registered in his mind as he heard Mrs. Bamey’s voice echoing in a far off distance.
“Dimitri? Dimitri! What’s wrong?”
Gasping for each breath of air he desperately needed in his lungs, the werewolf forced his eyes to open so he could meet her worried gaze.
“What’s….going on?” He asked between each pant.
“Louisa and Davey found Gregory on their way back from town. He’s alive!” She gasped. “But what’s wrong with you? You don’t look so well.”
“I don’t feel so well,” He growled, shaking his head a little too quickly. His stomach twisted into sickening knots as he shut his eyes once more, willing the urge to vomit to disappear.
“Come sit down,” She demanded in a firm tone. She led him towards the recliner since the couch was now occupied, and pushed him into it. “There. Now tell me what’s happening.”
“I think…” He started slowly, sucking in another lungful of air. “I think I’m having a panic attack.”
“A what?!” Mrs. Bamey squeaked. “Oh, Dimitri, how is that possible?” She rested the back of her hand against his forehead. “You’re absolutely freezing. What’s brought this on?”
Dimitri lifted his eyes to meet hers, resting a hand against his chest. It felt like his heart was working into overtime and there wasn’t enough oxygen in the world to please his body. He licked his lips, allowing his gaze to roam towards the young ursithrope being tended to on the couch.
“Him,” He whispered hoarsely.
Mrs. Bamey followed his gaze, frowning as she stared at Gregory Kress’ unconscious form. She blinked, slowly looking back at Dimitri with that same worried-mama-bear expression she gave every young person she cared about.
“He’s causing you to have a panic attack?” She asked softly. “Why?”
“I know you can smell it, too,” Dimitri swallowed hard. “You females are more in-tune with your senses, right?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Bamey nodded. “I do smell it, Dimitri. What is it?”
He allowed his head to fall back against the soft cushion of the recliner, falling victim to the stench of pipe tobacco as it slowly travelled through his sinuses. He closed his eyes and attempted to pace his sporadic breathing.
“What is it?” Mrs. Bamey repeated, her fingers gripping his ever so gently.
“He did it,” Dimitri responded after a few seconds. “He finally did it.”
“He did it? Who did what?” The older female asked in a trembling voice.
Dimitri’s eyes connected with hers as his face paled significantly. It wasn’t something he ever wanted to think about; ever again. In fact, he was so determined to forget it that he’d created an impenetrable wall around that memory, tossed into the darkest, most secret part of his brain. Just thinking about it now made him want to curl into the fetal position and sob. It wasn’t easy to remember it. It was damn hard to release the suppressed memories his conscience had tried to protect him from so long. But he remembered now; oh, how he could remember it so clearly.
He traced his tongue over his lower lip, his eyes emitting a soft glow.
“Breslin finally recreated his monster.”
Twenty Five
Stretching her legs out upon the mattress, Presley huffed. She crossed her arms over her chest and then glanced at Lorcan. He was gazing at her affectionately, obviously still trying to wake up from the deep sleep they’d both been enjoying only moments before.
It was actually more exhausting to break the news of her pregnancy than she’d originally anticipated. Everyone was happy for her and she’d received more hugs than she knew what to do with; but her mind was shutting down on her against her will, and calling it an early night had been the only option she deemed plausible at that time.
Uncle Arnold seemed happy enough about the news of becoming a great-uncle, but Presley knew he was hiding something else from her. When he had that look in his eyes, she knew something was wrong. He was keeping his emotions in check, and although she couldn’t pick up on the disappointment and agitation he had locked inside of him, she was nearly one hundred percent sure he wasn’t completely elated about her coupling with Lorcan. Or maybe he was still upset about her aunt Natalie reappearing. Or maybe he was just annoyed with the lycanthrope issue. Who could really know?
“You’ve got so much on your mind right now,” Lorcan observed in a thoughtful tone. “Picking your thoughts is terrifying.”
“Then don’t pick them,” Presley frowned, her eyes meeting his briefly before she looked away. “I just have a lot to think about.”
“And that’s good for the baby, how?”
“It’s not,” She sighed, burying her face into her hands. She shook her head slowly, attempting to gather herself as the stench wafting out of the living room crept up on her again. “Ugh. Can’t we do something about that
smell?”
“Well, I could,” Lorcan shrugged. “But you said that Dimitri told us to stay in here and Heaven forbid I go against what he says, right?”
“You didn’t see the look in his eyes,” Presley argued, lowering her hands to stare at him. “He was terrified, Orc. I could see it all over his face.”
“And that’s just all the more reason as to why I should be in there, helping with whatever is happening. You can’t defeat my logic on that one.”
“I’m not trying to defeat your logic,” She frowned, rubbing at her eyes. “I just want you to stay in here with me so I don’t go insane. I feel too much right now.”
Lorcan’s arms immediately enveloped her, pulling her against his chest as he brushed his lips over her forehead.
“I know, Darlin’,” He whispered. “I can’t imagine that it’s easy possessing a gift like that.”
“I’m beginning to wonder if it’s a gift or a curse,” She muttered, pouting a little as her brows furrowed. “Dimitri is freaking out and your mom is worried about him.”
“My mom is worried about everyone,” Lorcan scoffed. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Well,” She tilted her head back to peer up at him. “My aunt is really sad and Uncle Arnold is still blocking me out. I don’t know how he’s able to do that.”
“Some of us have better control than others,” Lorcan’s eyes met hers and he offered her a warm smile. “Besides, he’s a pretty private guy. Whatever he’s trying to work though right now, just give him time, Pretz. He’ll open up to you when he’s ready.”
“I need him to open up now,” She huffed. “What if he totally hates me because I’m pregnant?”
Lorcan’s fingers gripped her jaw tenderly. He forced her to meet his gaze as he frowned.
“Don’t you ever think something like that again, do you understand?” His stern tone immediately softened once he saw the look of bewilderment on her face. “I’m sorry. It just really grinds my gears that you would think that at all. He loves you, Presley. He’s the father you never had a chance to have growing up. He could never hate you over something like that.”
Presley sucked in a soft breath, feeling as Lorcan’s heated hand pressed against her stomach. Her eyes darted back and forth between his as that familiar fire ignited in her chest.
“He will love this baby just as much as he loves you,” He smiled. “Just as much as I do.”
Oh, how he is capable of making me melt when all I want to do is hide away from the world? Presley wondered, her eyes falling closed as Lorcan’s lips found hers. She kissed him slowly, allowing herself a brief second of peace. It was truly incredible how he could make the world disappear in the most chaotic of times.
“Don’t you ever worry about anyone hating you over our cub,” Lorcan murmured against her bottom lip. “That’s not possible.”
But it was possible, and Presley would find that out the hard way soon enough.
–––––––-
Once again, Louisa found herself being thrust into the excitement of an ursithrope’s daily life in Kadenburg, Tennessee. Happening upon Gregory Kress had definitely been a stroke of luck, right? She had no idea how long the poor boy had been in the woods, or just how serious his injuries were until they made it into the warmth of the house and Beau began to assess the damage.
“I need some washcloths, Louisa. Now,” He instructed. She was surprised that his tone seemed so much kinder than what she remembered, and she immediately obliged.
Rushing into the bathroom, she retrieved a handful of small towels and ran them under the faucet. They were dripping everywhere as she hurried back into the living room, kneeling by her cousin’s side before thrusting them towards him.
“Thank you,” Beau murmured. He pressed one sopping rag against the boy’s forehead and another at the base of his neck. His brows were furrowed together in concentration as he tugged Gregory’s shirt upwards.
Everyone in the room released various sounds of sympathy as three angry gunshot wounds came into view. The first was on Gregory’s stomach, with two more just beneath the left side of his ribs. They were trying to heal on their own with no success.
“I’d say Sheriff Holter is a bit trigger happy,” Beau muttered. “Who thought it was a good idea to give that man a gun?”
“Why did he shoot him?” Davey Berdine asked with a frown. The older male scratched at his temple as he studied the scene playing out before him. “And how can we even be sure it was him?”
“Well that’s easy enough to answer,” Beau replied, sinking his forefinger and thumb into one of the wounds and pulling a silver bullet out. He lifted it into the air for everyone to see. “Does this look familiar?”
“Son of a bitch,” Mr. Bamey growled angrily. “What right does he have to be shooting at a damn ursithrope? Greg isn’t a mutt,” He glanced in Dimitri’s direction. “No offense.”
Dimitri lifted his head, shrugging his shoulders weakly. “None taken.”
“On the contrary,” Beau shook his head as he leaned forward, using the hand that wasn’t drenched in blood to pry Greg’s mouth open. “Take a good look, Mr. Bamey. Notice anything….different?”
Mr. Bamey leaned forward for a better look, and Louisa found herself doing the same. Her eyes widened in surprise as a gasp escaped from between her lips. Greg possessed terrifyingly sharp fangs. Two rows of jagged, meat-ripping wolf teeth glistened in the dim lighting of the living room.
“That ain’t possible,” Kyle Frey whispered.
“Oh, it is,” Beau nodded, turning his attention back to the small group of onlookers as he pulled his hand away from Greg’s mouth. “I have seen it before.”
“No,” Mr. Bamey shook his head quickly as he crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s not right. That cannot be done. You can’t mix an ursithrope with a lycan. That goes against the very basis of nature, Son. There’s got to be another explanation.”
“Mr. Bamey,” Beau stood from the floor, wiping his hands off on a towel as his gaze met the older ursithrope’s. “I’m not sure if you’ve been paying attention for the last few moments, but it would seem as though our young ‘mutt’ friend over there has been fighting with some post-traumatic stress disorder. I think he is also familiar with this particular situation.”
“How the hell do you know that?” Davey Berdine asked with a lifted brow. “Are you a dang doctor or something?”
Beau blinked, tilting his head to the side.
“He took many years of medical training and he graduated before….our lives changed,” Louisa explained. She glanced down at Gregory and frowned. “Breslin Connor tried to do the same thing to my mate-to-be.”
“What happened to him?” Mrs. Bamey asked as she pulled her attention away from Dimitri.
Louisa dropped her gaze to the floor as a more than familiar sadness made itself known in her heart.
“He did not survive,” She whispered. “His body couldn’t handle the change.”
“The change?” Mrs. Bamey hugged her arms around herself as she glanced at her husband worriedly. “What does she mean, Richard?”
“She means that Breslin Connor likes to think of himself as a mad scientist,” Beau explained as he knelt back down beside of Greg, carefully removing the other two bullets as he spoke. “He was trying to create a hybrid and he was looking for a young, abled body to use as a guinea pig.”
“A hybrid?” Davey Berdine scoffed. “He is not a god. He cannot create such a thing.”
“But he tried,” Beau corrected as he dressed the wounds and leaned back on his haunches. “And Louisa’s future mate was not his first attempt; neither was Greg.”
“This is too much,” Mrs. Bamey whimpered. “You mean to tell me that Breslin Connor has been killing our able bodied males just to see if he could create a half ursithrope, half lycanthrope science experiment?”
“He has done more than that,” Natalie Carroll said after a moment. She had been so quiet that Louisa nearl
y forgot she was in the room. It only became apparent then that the female was emitting three strong emotions at once, and they were the same as Dimitri; fear, panic, and something else…..
“What do you know?” Arnold Goult asked in a lower voice. His tone suggested he was accusing her of something, and Louisa wasn’t sure she liked that very much.
Natalie dropped her gaze to the floor, unwilling to meet anyone’s eyes as she scratched at her wrist nervously.
“Natty?” Mrs. Bamey asked softly.
“Breslin has been trying to successfully recreate what Greg is for years,” She finally responded. She sniffled and quickly lifted a hand to wipe at her eyes. “He’s tried a variety of methods on multiple subjects….”
“Natalie,” Arnold growled.
Natalie lifted her teary gaze, her eyes slowly moving from one person to the other. The guilt was written all over her face. It became the strongest emotion Louisa sensed in a room full of angry bear-shifters.
“It started with breeding. He tried to mate with female ursithropes in order to birth hybrids…and when that didn’t work…”
“Who?” Arnold asked through clenched teeth as he glared at her. His anger was rising, and that emotion was fighting for dominance over Natalie’s guilt. It made Louisa uneasy as she took a step back. “Who were the females he tried to mate with?”
Although she was completely lost on the conversation, Louisa wanted to know that answer as well. Her curiosity got the best of her as she waited with baited breath.
“Don’t make me say,” Natalie pleaded meekly. “You know what I am going to say and I do not want to say it.”
“Damn it, Natalie. You better tell me now or I swear to Urseth…” Arnold’s voice broke then, and Louisa was surprised to see his anger had dissolved into heartbreaking sadness. It made her stomach lurch in an undesirable way. She felt sympathy for him; she felt sympathy for all of them.
“I was the second,” Natalie admitted as shame replaced her guilt. “And Caroline was the third.”
It was Kyle Frey who asked the question burning in everyone’s mind.
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