For the moment, none materialized.
Peter pulled the car up outside her building. “Do you want me to come up with you?”
“Yes, please.”
They climbed out of the car and crossed the sidewalk to the building. Trying to quash the sense of unease that had taken hold of her, she stepped into the elevator, Peter close beside her, and hit the button for their floor. The car began to rise, leaving her stomach somewhere below. The elevator came to a halt with a jerk and a shudder and the doors slid open.
Mia exited the elevator, Peter shadowing behind her left shoulder. She crossed the hall and stopped, her heart stuttering in her chest. The door stood ajar by several inches. Her stomach churned in a slow, lazy loop.
“Peter …”
It was all she could manage. She reached out behind her and her fingers caught his. Instinctively, she knew something was wrong. It wasn’t just that Autumn had forgotten to close the front door properly. It wasn’t just that security was important to them—young women living alone in this part of Chicago. No, she got more of a feeling from behind the open door, a sense that something bad had occurred here, the events tainting the air like a bad smell.
“Wait here,” Peter said, stepping forward while carefully managing to maneuver himself so he now stood in front of her, shielding her with his body. “I’ll go and check it out.”
She wanted to be brave and go waltzing in herself, but she was afraid of what she might find. What if Autumn had been hurt or worse? What if the people responsible—government people Toby had been monitoring—were still there? Peter was far more qualified to deal with them.
Feeling like a little kid, she clung to the back of his shirt, hiding behind the breadth of his back as they both entered the apartment. She peeped around his shoulder, her eyes skirting the floor, terrified she’d see one of Autumn’s long legs sticking out from a doorway, or a puddle of blood soaking into the carpet. They walked through into the living room and Peter came to a stop. She could tell from the hitch of his breath, from the way his body stiffened, that he hadn’t seen something good.
“Oh God,” she whispered and forced herself to look.
The images she’d had of Autumn’s beaten body and pools of blood didn’t exist. However, the tumbled bookcase, with its sprawl of battered paperbacks as if they’d been vomited across the room, the smashed coffee table, and a broken coffee mug was enough of a reason to explain her sense of forebode.
Peter left her side and crossed to beside the couch, bent and touched his fingers to a dark, rusty stain. He lifted his hand and pressed his fingers together, pulling them apart to show red on their tips. Mia had been wrong. There was blood in the apartment.
“Oh God.” Her legs trembled beneath her and she reached out to grab the back of the couch to steady herself. “Someone took her. Those government people Toby was talking about …”
Peter turned to her, his grey eyes filled with concern. “We don’t know that for sure, but it’s pretty likely.”
“What do we do? Can we call the police?”
“We could, though I’m not sure what they’d be able to do. If this is government led, the cops won’t be able to do anything.” But Mia saw something on his face, something he wasn’t saying.
“What is it?” she asked. “What are you not telling me?”
He frowned and gave his head a shake as if to dislodge his thoughts. “It’s probably nothing, but this seems too messy to be the work of the Department of Defense. They’d clean up after themselves.”
She stared at him. “Who else would want Autumn?”
“I’m not sure, but I think we need to find Blake.”
“What about Toby? He might know something else now.”
Peter frowned. “I told him to stay off the government intranet.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “He’s a teenage boy. Do you really think he would do as you tell him?”
“You may have a point,” he said, with a long exhale.
“What about all of this?” She gestured around her. “Should we clean it up?” The enormity of her friend missing and probably hurt suddenly hit her. Her eyes filled with tears, her hand went to her mouth. “Poor Autumn. She must be so scared.” Her thoughts went to her own abduction not so long ago. The tumble of thoughts piled upon her until the memories seemed to bury her, suffocating and claustrophobic.
“I’m sorry,” she managed, before she turned and ran at a stagger, bumping into the walls until she got out of the apartment.
Chapter Eighteen
CHOGAN HAD BEEN on the news again.
Blake gritted his teeth in fury. How did the man seem to have the ability to appear everywhere else, but yet eluded Blake? He liked to appear, drop a bombshell, and then run and hide to observe the fallout from a safe distance. Even more maddening, during the interview, the redhead reporter put Chogan through the mill, twisting his words to show shifters in an even worse light. Blake discovered himself to be partially responsible for that. Footage of him as a wolf had been shown to back up the reporter’s point. Though he knew he hadn’t hurt anyone, he had to admit he’d appeared savage, snarling and snapping at the protestors. Of course, what they didn’t show was how those same people had been attacking the lioness-shifter, raining blows down on her with their homemade signs. The footage was completely one-sided.
Chogan should have kept his head down, but instead he’d made everything worse by attempting to get people to understand what they were. Why couldn’t his cousin accept that the majority of humans would hate and fear them? Going on television to try to explain how they were ‘spiritual creatures’ when the news channel had such violent footage was never going to work.
An idea sparked in Blake’s mind. If he couldn’t find Chogan, perhaps he could force Chogan to come to him. His cousin had been using the media to get his point out. He saw no reason why two couldn’t play at that game.
Fired with determination, he headed across the city, toward the location of the news studio. At least the riots of the previous couple of days seemed to have burned themselves out, though he didn’t doubt that they would start up again given the slightest nudge. He hesitated. Would what he was about to do be that nudge? No, if he didn’t take control, Chogan would. He couldn’t allow that to happen.
Blake tried to use his new focus and determination to keep his mind away from his personal life. He was still hurting, a dual ache—one part from the news of the baby and the other from the loss of Autumn, which he had instigated. Had he done the right thing? He told himself he was only thinking of her, but then why was he experiencing this constant, sickening doubt? He worried he’d made the biggest mistake of his life.
Perhaps when he got his emotions together, they could be together then, he thought with hope. But quickly the hope died. He would never say such a thing to Autumn. How could he ask someone like her to wait around for him while he sorted his head out? Not only would he not ask that of her, he also thought she would laugh in his face and tell him to get lost.
He’d left the rental car at home, preferring to be on foot. At least that way he didn’t need to worry about parking. Before long, he found himself pushing through the glass doors of the building. A tired-looking security guard manned the front desk. He lifted his head as Blake stalked across the floor toward him, and the man’s eyes widened in alarm. Look pleasant, he scolded himself, and forced his shoulders to relax and a smile to twist on his face.
“Hi, I’m here to—”
“I know who you’re here to see,” the man replied, before picking up the phone and hitting a couple of numbers. “Ms. Christie, there’s another one of them here to see you.”
How did the guy know? The only thing he could think of was that the man had had the pleasure of meeting Chogan and had picked up on the family resemblance. Blake held back a scowl. He hated the idea of being tarnished with the brush Chogan had created.
Another thought jarred through him. He’d shifted in public too. What if the moment
had been captured on someone’s phone and released? Then he’d really struggle to fight the point he needed to make, to try to turn this whole thing around.
But I had no choice. He couldn’t have just sat and watched while those people beat the lioness-shifter. It was bad enough that he’d had to hold his tongue for so long with Dumas, and look how that had ended up. While he didn’t want shifters to be public knowledge, he would never again stand by while one of his own was being hurt.
The security man studied him warily before putting down the phone. “Take a seat. She’ll be right down.”
Blake was too anxious to stay seated in one place. Instead, he stood, fidgeting and walking the small space.
A red-haired woman appeared at his side. “I believe you’re here to see me?”
He turned to her. “Ms. Christie, my name is Blake Wolfcollar.”
She nodded. “Please, call me Annabel, and I know who you are. You were all over the news not so long ago for the abduction of that young scientist, if I remember correctly.”
“You remember the news report correctly, though it was bad information. Autumn Anderson was not abducted. She left with me willingly.”
“Yes, of course.” She bowed her head slightly in an apology. “I am aware of that.”
“Are you also aware that Chogan Pallaton is my cousin?”
She studied his face, “I guess that should have been obvious. The similarity is striking.”
Blake narrowed his eyes. “Hmm. Perhaps so. I’m here today to talk about Chogan, about the things he’s saying.” He gave what he hoped was a charming smile. “I hope you’re not falling for all of my cousin’s tricks, Ms. Christie?”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean.”
“Chogan has always been an attention seeker. This time he’s gone out of his way to get attention, and frankly, I’m amazed so many have fallen for his antics.”
She returned the smile, though it was wary. “You forget that I was there, Mr. Wolfcollar. I know what I saw.”
“Do you? How many times have you seen amazing feats of magic performed by magicians and not been able to explain them away, though you know it’s a trick? What makes you think Chogan is any different?”
“You’re saying your cousin is a magician?”
He heard laughter and disbelief in her voice.
“Is that stranger than believing he’s what? A shape-shifter? A werewolf?” Blake made no attempt to hide his amusement, and the woman’s cheeks colored.
“What about all the footage?”
“Any fool with a decent laptop can doctor those kinds of special effects these days.”
“Well ... I ...”
Inwardly, Blake rejoiced. That was all he needed, just a little thread of doubt that this whole thing was a big hoax. People would always want to explain the paranormal away. It was built into their genetics. If someone was told about a ghost story, and then offered the choice whether to believe the paranormal phenomenon was down to an actual ghost or proven away by old pipes or an electrical surge, they’d jump on the practical option every time. People were naturally sceptical; only a very few he’d ever met were completely open to the paranormal world, and most of those had been shifters.
“So what is it you want me to do, Mr. Wolfcollar?”
“I want the same opportunity you gave my cousin. To go on television and tell people what’s really going on.” He paused, “The problem with Chogan, Ms. Christie, is that he likes to pull these pranks and then disappear from public eye, witnessing everyone else’s fear and disbelief from a distance.”
She gave a nod of understanding. “I did notice how he’d made himself scarce after the last time.”
“Exactly. All I want is an opportunity to explain to everyone the reasons they shouldn’t panic, to pull my cousin up as the fraud he is, and to call him out on it. The man is a coward, I want him to show himself and accept the consequences of what he’s done.”
Would Autumn see the broadcast? Would she think badly of him for essentially lying about the existence of spirit shifters to the whole nation? When they’d last spoken, Chogan had gotten under her skin, he’d sensed it. Just a few moments with his cousin had made her wonder if Chogan’s way was right, even though she’d been caught up in and witnessed for herself the chaos his way of thinking had caused. His heart felt like a solid lump in his chest. He’d done the right thing by pushing her away. He had to believe that. She deserved more than a guy who was still lost in his past.
“And when would you like this interview to take place?”
“As soon as possible, if that’s all right with you.”
“I should warn you that I’m not a sweet as I seem. Don’t expect me to give these ideas of yours an easy ride.”
He smiled back. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Chapter Nineteen
THE TOES OF Autumn’s boots scraped across the ground as the people who had taken her hauled her along, each person holding her by the upper arm as they did so. At least she was out of the trunk of the car now. For that, she was grateful. Her abductors had driven her somewhere, and her exhaustion combined with the rocking, bumping motion of the car had unbelievably put her to sleep. When she’d woken, she’d done so with more fear than she’d ever experienced in her life. Unable to open her eyes or mouth, she’d first thought she’d gone blind and then would suffocate, then the memory of what happened came back to her and she forced herself to calm down.
She didn’t know how long she’d lain in the trunk, but the car had no longer been in motion. When someone finally popped the trunk, her bladder had been in agony with the need to urinate. With no other choice, she’d then gone through the humiliation of having someone else pull down her pants and hold her up while she peed against some shrubs, the leaves and twigs scraping against her upper thighs and bare buttocks.
She had long since given up struggling. Her fight had only left her exhausted and even more terrified. The people who held her were far stronger than she was, especially the man. She didn’t stand a chance in a physical fight, not dumb and blind and with her arms and feet bound with tape.
Her other senses hadn’t failed her, though. From the musty odor of damp earth and the rustle of leaves above, from the uneven terrain and the hoot of an owl somewhere in the distance, she discerned that she was being dragged through some woods or forest. Night must have fallen already. She’d lost track of how long it had been since they’d taken her.
The motion of the people dragging her slowed. The arms released her suddenly, and she plummeted face first to the ground once more, mashing her nose against the dirt. Pain exploded across her face and behind her eyeballs, and she tasted blood at the back of her throat. She groaned, turning her face to the side.
Through her pain, she heard a metallic click and a creak of wood. She barely got the chance to recover. Instead, rough hands grabbed her again and hauled her back up. The material beneath her feet changed to solid boards, creaking beneath their combined weight. The atmosphere around her changed, the acoustics dampening on her ears, and she realized they’d brought her inside somewhere, though she had no idea where.
Blood congealed in the back of her nose and suddenly she found herself struggling to breathe. The small amount of air she was able to inhale past the clotted blood wasn’t enough to sustain her. Her lungs began to burn. Fresh fear ran through her and she tried in vain to breathe, but her airways began to close over. She could hear herself making strange whistling noises, though they seemed far away.
This is it. She’d suffocate beneath this goddamned blanket.
The people who had her must have noticed something was wrong, for the blanket miraculously lifted off her head. Fresh, cool air kissed her skin, though her breathing didn’t improve. She felt so light-headed, detached. Her fear vanished and suddenly she found she no longer cared.
The woman spoke. “Get that goddamned tape off her mouth. She’s not breathing.”
The tape was ripped with for
ce, taking the top layer of her lips off with such pain she cried out in shock, bringing her back to reality with a bang. She flicked out her tongue, wetting her poor, dry mouth, and tasted blood afresh.
“You fucking bastards,” she said, hoping to scream the words, though they came out as a hoarse croak. “What the fuck do you want?”
Someone chuckled and her rage grew.
“We want your blood,” said the man, amusement behind his tone.
The fluid they’d mentioned froze in her veins. She remembered what her father had told her the previous day, how shifters had killed her mother when they’d found out about her abilities. Was that what was happening now? Did they want her dead?
“You plan to kill me?”
Again, someone laughed, except this time it was the female voice again, the one Autumn had felt sure she recognized, but couldn’t place. “No, you’re more use to us alive. After all, when you’re alive, your body will keep producing blood. Once you die, we’ll only be left with a finite amount, even if we drain you.”
“Drain me?” She really didn't like where this was going.
“Enough of the questions.” The woman seemed to redirect her tone to address her co-abductor. “Get her strapped down.”
Big hands grabbed her again, hauling her backward. The backs of her knees hit wood, forcing her to sit. A rip cut the air as the tape binding her arms was removed. She almost groaned in pleasure at being able to move her shoulders into a different position, but the relief didn’t last for long. Someone grabbed an arm, holding it to the armrest while someone else strapped it down with her palms facing up. The same thing was repeated with her other arm. Autumn yelled out, yanking her arms against the restraints, but it did no good.
Saving Autumn Page 14
