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The Complete Lost Children Series

Page 90

by Krista Street


  CHAPTER ONE

  The wind pounded in my ears as my paws thundered across the ground. Dense woods surrounded me as I loped around the trees.

  I’d never experienced anything like this. The freedom. The sights and sounds. And the air . . . The breeze carried more than just smells. The wind that whipped over my lolling tongue had a taste . . . like leaves, rain, earth, and moss.

  Slowing my pace, my nose twitched as a new scent caught my interest. Looping back, I trotted to a patch of pine needles and leaves that littered the forest floor. I stopped. Something about this area was different. I lowered my head and buried my nose in the leaves.

  Snuffling, I moved my head along, catching that strangely alluring smell again. There. I stopped at a patch of leaves. A few drops of something wet and sticky coated them.

  I sniffed more.

  My body trembled, and an excited whine erupted from me. Blood. An injured animal had passed through here only moments ago. The blood was fresh. Raw.

  Lifting my head, I howled. The sound filled the trees.

  I’m going to kill.

  The sheer anticipation left my body rippling with eager unspent energy.

  I took off as I caught the trail. Drops of crimson blood dotted the forest floor. Once again, I thundered across the land. Branches and brush snagged against my fur, but I didn’t slow.

  Movement ahead caught my attention. The smell grew stronger. A deer. It was limping but was still trying valiantly to run. A hunter’s arrow protruded from its hind end.

  Enough of my human mind still functioned to recognize that whoever had shot it wasn’t a skilled hunter. This deer had escaped his grasp. Most likely, it had been running for hours and would die slowly over days.

  But now it will die soon.

  My pace increased.

  I lunged at the last moment. The deer didn’t know I was upon it until my teeth sank into its flesh. The deer’s scream of pain filled my ears as blood rushed into my mouth.

  Yes!

  But just as elation coursed through my veins, a touch of revulsion did too. My human mind registered the feel of warm flesh ripping between my teeth. What’s happening to me? Why am I doing this?

  Another scream filled the air, joining the deer’s pitiful cries.

  Except this scream was human.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Jacinda!” Luke roared.

  My eyes snapped open as I bolted upright in bed. An ear-piercing scream continued to fill my ears.

  My scream.

  I stopped screaming abruptly as my surroundings registered. Soft sheets. A dark room. Luke’s hulking form beside me.

  Sweat poured from my face as Luke clutched my upper arms.

  “Jacinda! My love! It’s okay. It was just a dream.” His thick fingers threaded through my damp hair as he pushed blond locks from my face.

  A dream. It was the dream again.

  My breath came out in harsh pants. With frantic movements, I fingered my mouth and moved my tongue. My lips were dry. And nothing coated the inside of my mouth. No blood.

  I frowned. For some bizarre reason, that realization was strangely . . . upsetting. That was a first following the dream. Usually, I felt nothing but disgust after I woke from biting into the deer’s haunches.

  Pushing that unsettling fact to the side, I tucked my hair behind my ears with shaky fingers.

  “How long was I screaming?” I turned to Luke. The bed dipped so heavily in his direction, I slid into him. Even my large belly didn’t weigh me down enough to keep me in place.

  Luke’s muscled arms caught me and pulled me close. “Less than a minute. It was the thrashing that woke me first. Your legs and arms were wind-milling.”

  “Wind-milling?”

  “As if you were running.”

  As if I was running in my sleep. I ducked my chin as embarrassment flooded me. No doubt, I had once again resembled a dog as it dozed on the floor. Snout twitching, legs scissoring, as if acting out whatever dreams canines had.

  Heat filled my cheeks. I had to be a sight: sweaty, damp hair, the scent of perspiration clinging to my skin, and legs twitching like an animal.

  I already itched to take a shower—to feel human again. The thought of blow-drying my hair and spritzing on a dash of perfume had me wanting to climb out of bed and run to the bathroom.

  But that wouldn’t stop the dreams. It wouldn’t stop what had been plaguing me my entire pregnancy.

  What’s wrong with me?

  The baby kicked. He felt like he was doing somersaults in my abdomen.

  I cradled my swollen belly protectively. My skin was taut and smooth. Already, I was thirty-one weeks. Were you dreaming of the forest too, my little one?

  Luke’s massive palm covered mine, his callouses rough on the back of my hand. When the baby kicked again, he grunted. “He’s strong. Did you feel that one? This little pup wants to meet his papa.” Luke’s golden eyes glowed in the dark room. Even though they were full of pride, I caught another emotion in them too—worry.

  My dreams were growing more intense. The closer my due date became, the more it felt like my mind was no longer my own. Before becoming pregnant, the thought of running through the woods or tasting blood would have made my nose wrinkle in disgust.

  But now . . .

  I rubbed my belly again. Is that what you want to do, my little one? To run in the woods with your papa? To chase deer? To taste blood?

  Though fierce love filled me every time I thought of our baby, I couldn’t stop the gnawing fear that something was wrong. I’d felt that way my entire pregnancy, and once again, terror slid through me in icy trails. What if he’s born a wolf? What if he’s not human at all?

  Over and over, I’d had nightmares of people seeing me with our baby. Of him being mistaken for our new puppy by those who did not realize the precious little one who trotted by my feet had been birthed between my own legs.

  I rubbed my belly more, my movements growing faster. Inside me, our little one kicked and squirmed.

  “Shh, my love.” Luke pried my hands away and locked me in his arms.

  I tried to stop the worries that filled my mind, but it was no use. “I’m so scared.”

  “I know.”

  Given Luke’s and my unique genetics, there was no knowing what our baby would look like. The only comfort I took was in the ultrasounds that Father and Di, my adopted sister, had done. They’d showed a fetus with arms, legs, and human hands. Not paws.

  They kept telling me everything was fine.

  But I knew it wasn’t.

  I shouldn’t be having these dreams. I shouldn’t dream of meat and blood if my baby is human. That’s not normal. Only animals want to chase prey and sink their teeth into them.

  And even though Luke could transform into a wolf, he was still very much human, and he said he rarely had dreams of hunting in wolf form.

  But such were my dreams. And instead of going away, they were increasing.

  The dreams only reminded me that nothing about my pregnancy was normal. The bloodwork Di and Father had processed showed lupine DNA in my blood-stream. DNA that wasn’t mine circulated through my body. DNA that was like Luke’s. DNA that was our baby’s.

  For whatever reason, my pregnancy wasn’t like most humans’. My blood intermixed with the fetus’s.

  Strangely, I had no adverse reaction to our mixing blood. Father said the baby’s blood was compatible with my own. Therefore, each of us was safe. I shuddered to think what might have happened if our bloods weren’t compatible.

  Di hadn’t known that I had overheard her one day as she and Father discussed the gravity of someone reacting to incompatible blood. I’d been three rooms away, but my hearing had been turned up. Apparently, bad things could happen during blood transfusions, and if incompatible bloods mixed—a person could die.

  Or our baby could die.

  The blare of the city filtered through our bedroom windows, snapping me from my morbid thoughts, which at times felt like a runa
way freight train. Even at the late hour, Denver was wide awake.

  My hearing was currently turned up, as it often was when I woke from the dreams. Wincing, I mentally turned it down. The screaming car horns and the squeal of tires around corners below quieted. So did Luke’s sounds. His heartbeat had been so loud, it sounded like the pounding surf only inches from my head. His breathing hadn’t been any better. He was worried. That was evident in his harsh panting that he was trying valiantly to hide.

  “My love? Do you want to lie back down?” He turned me in his arms, his hard chest pressing against my side. Coarse hairs peppered his pectoral muscles. I threaded my fingers through them.

  “I’m okay,” I managed. The need to shower was still pulling at me.

  “Was it the deer dream?”

  I nodded. “Yes, only this time, it felt even more . . . real.” I’d been certain blood filled my mouth when I woke.

  Footsteps padded outside our room. They sounded like a bass drum. Turn your hearing down more. I pushed it down another notch as our door squeaked open. I winced and turned my hearing down again.

  Must get that door hinge fixed.

  “Is she okay?” Susannah’s soft voice carried into the room. My adopted sister had whispered, but I still heard it crystal clear. She probably thought I’d fallen back to sleep.

  “I’m fine, Susannah,” I replied before Luke could. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you again?” My shoulders drooped. It seemed nobody in our home was sleeping well these days.

  Susannah shrugged and padded into the room. She stopped at the foot of our bed.

  Standing in a thin T-shirt that draped to her knees, she looked like an ethereal dark angel. Her long black hair tumbled down her back, and her snow-white skin glowed in the night lighting.

  As the sounds of downtown Denver blared upward from dozens of stories below, city lights filtered in through our curtains, making our penthouse condo feel alive in its own way.

  I could see Susannah’s face clearly. Worry made her full mouth pucker.

  “Was it one of the recurring dreams?” Her soft voice was filled with concern.

  “Yes.”

  She padded to my side. “Do you want me to brush your hair? That worked last time when you couldn’t sleep because of the dreams.”

  I took her hand and squeezed it gently. “Sure. That would be nice.” I scooted over to give her room on the bed beside Luke and me. It was so strange to have Luke and her dote on me every night.

  Normally, before I’d become pregnant, I’d been the caretaker in our family. That was how I preferred it, but I also knew giving them something to do made them feel useful, as if their nervous energy could be morphed into something that prevented disaster.

  Susannah’s small hand reached for the brush on the nightstand.

  “Here, move forward a little.” Susannah guided me to be in front of her then began combing my hair in long strokes.

  Luke moved down in the bed and picked up my lower leg. His strong fingers kneaded the arch of my left foot. It sent calming tingles up my nerves.

  “Thank you,” I murmured.

  “Just try to fall back asleep,” Luke whispered. “You’ve only been sleeping for two hours.”

  My eyes drifted to the clock as the baby kicked again—3:52 a.m. Another sleepless night.

  “But what about you two?” I tried to turn so I could better assess how Susannah was faring, but she gently pushed me forward again.

  “Luke and I have no problems falling asleep. Don’t worry about us. Just try to relax enough to sleep again.”

  I tried to argue. I truly did. I hated that my pregnancy was affecting each of them so much. A few times in the past month, I’d suggested to Susannah that she move in with Di and Raven, or Father, Amber, and Edgar. Surely, she would get better rest there.

  But each time, Susannah denied my suggestions. She was as stubborn as Luke in that department. As was the rest of my family . . .

  My half-sister, Lena, had begun visiting every weekend to do what she could to help. Flint often accompanied her. More than once, the two of them had been the ones to soothe me during the night when the dreams became too much. Thankfully, their help had allowed Luke and Susannah to have a few nights of untroubled sleep.

  “Shh, my love.” Luke’s strong hands worked their magic as Susannah’s rhythmic brushing made my eyes drift closed. “Go to sleep.”

  Susannah shifted, which allowed me to fall back against the pillows. My eyes were closing when I felt her stand.

  “They’re getting worse.” Her soft statement floated to me, but already, I was slipping under.

  “I know. She barely sleeps at all now.”

  Our door closed with a squeak when Susannah left the room.

  Luke moved to my side, his fingers massaging my back. His hard form pressed against me from behind as his free arm locked possessively around my swollen middle. But what he didn’t know was that I still heard his thundering heart.

  As much as he tried to hide his worry from me, it was still there.

  It was always there.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Dark circles lined the bottoms of my eyes. I stared at them in dismay before snapping my compact closed.

  I sat in my car at the front of my favorite salon. It was my second facial appointment this week even though these appointments did little to alleviate the bags under my eyes.

  But even though I had to get back to work soon, I didn’t move. Memories of the dreams still haunted me.

  After finally falling asleep for a second time last night, I’d bolted awake not even an hour later. The second recurring dream, the dream of me giving birth, had left me shaky and sweaty. Snapping jaws and a furry tail had emerged from my womb. My own child had bitten me upon entering the world.

  Not for the first time, I questioned if I should continue working. We certainly didn’t need the money, and sleepless nights plagued me relentlessly. But I enjoyed my job, and so many women worked right up until they gave birth. In a way, I knew I would feel like a failure if I couldn’t do that too. But most women don’t have pregnancies like mine.

  An engine started beside my parked vehicle, jolting me back to the present. Its driver waved at me.

  Marcella. She was another regular at the salon. I waved back and forced a smile before checking my watch.

  Shoot. It’s 12:15 already. I didn’t have much time. I was here on my lunch hour. The daycare I worked at was jam-packed today. It was a miracle I’d been given a break at all.

  I opened my door and stepped out. Bright sunlight and ninety-degree July heat assaulted me on the sidewalk. My leather flats tapped on the concrete as sweat beaded on my upper lip.

  Bella greeted me when I entered the salon. “Hi, Jacinda!”

  A rush of air-conditioning cooled my skin as I walked to the counter. Thankfully. It was so hot out every day lately. Summer’s heat was in full swing.

  A flash of annoyance filled me as Bella typed in my name to look up my appointment. It came out of nowhere—a rush of irritation and anger.

  Startled, I instinctively cradled my abdomen as Bella moved her computer mouse around. When she finished, she smiled.

  “I have you all checked in.” Her smile faltered when she looked up.

  I quickly smoothed whatever expression I wore.

  Bella’s gaze dropped to my belly. “That baby still keeping you awake at night?”

  I stiffened. “Is it that obvious?” The comment snapped from my mouth like someone smacking a wet dish towel against the counter.

  Her smile vanished. “Oh, um . . . I didn’t mean anything by it. I just noticed you look tired, but it’s nothing Vanessa can’t fix. You know she’s a magician with skin care.” She shuffled a few papers awkwardly as her gaze dipped.

  Guilt smothered the irritation that flared in me. I never snapped at people like that. What’s wrong with me?

  A flutter of anxiety wafted through my veins as I walked on stiff legs to a waiting room chair. Bella
was always so friendly and bubbly. She didn’t deserve how I’d just treated her.

  I pulled my full bottom lip into my mouth and chewed on it.

  “Jacinda?”

  My head whipped up so hard a crick formed in my neck.

  Vanessa appeared in the arched doorway that led deeper into the salon, a smile plastered on her face. “Ready to come back?”

  I pushed to a stand. The baby kicked again. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

  She smiled warmly and began walking. Her long brown hair was pulled up in a stylish bun today. Two sticks held it in place. “How many weeks are you now?”

  “Almost thirty-two.” Another flutter of irritation filled me. Why does everyone keep asking about my pregnancy? It’s none of their damned business!

  That abrupt thought made me pause mid-stride. Vanessa continued forward, oblivious to my faltered step.

  My breathing increased. What the hell is the matter with me?

  I made myself resume walking, but the spiteful comments inside me continued throughout my entire appointment. Anytime Vanessa asked about the baby, made a comment about my pregnancy, or looked at me the wrong way, I had to purse my lips to keep from lashing out. The few times she glanced at my swollen belly, I’d had to physically stop myself from snarling and cradling my belly possessively.

  By the time I left my appointment—an appointment that usually brought me joy and peace—I felt like a she-wolf ready to sink my teeth into someone.

  I was shaking when I returned to work. Luckily, the little ones I took care of never asked about my due date. They just crawled over me, drooling, giggling, and wanting to be held.

  I cuddled a ten-month-old to my chest. She’d been missing her mom horribly, and I did my best to soothe her. Thankfully, she found solace nibbling on my knuckle. I let her chew away as a one-year-old toddled toward me on unsteady legs. I reached out with my free arm and steadied her when she pitched forward.

  “Oooh, Clare Bear. You big girl. Look at you go!”

  She just giggled and toddled to another area in the room.

  For the first time all day, the malicious thoughts and raging temper disappeared, but once my shift was over and I was packing up, the venomous thoughts returned. Anytime one of my coworkers glanced at my belly or stepped too close, it took everything in me to not snap.

 

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