Autumn Awakens

by M. J. Padgett

  “So sorry,” Seline said. “We’ve been through a lot of turmoil these past few years, and we’ve found just tossing people right in the deep end tends to work better than chasing them for fifteen centuries like the Grimm brothers did.”

  I arched both eyebrows, assuming she alluded to the fairy tale writers and not members of The Grim Reapers. She didn’t seem the type to hang around with human traffickers, but one could never be too sure. “The Grimm brothers?” I asked, hoping to gain some clarification though I doubted confirming she was talking about dead storytellers would clarify much at that point.

  “Yes, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm. Again, I’m... I’m really sorry this is coming out all wrong. I’m beginning to see why the brothers are so darn cranky,” Henry said. “What we are trying to say is—” Henry was interrupted by a loud thud.

  Jemma had dropped her head on to the table and mumbled. “You’d think over time we’d get better at this, but it seems like we just get worse.” When she lifted her head, she wore a sympathetic smile and a red spot on her forehead. “I’m sorry, Parker. There really is no way to explain this except to say it’s a very long story, and you are a special person. We’ve all been in the same position you’re in right now, and I promise it all begins to make sense eventually—wait, why am I lying to you? It’s never gonna make total sense, but it’ll make some sense. Just... Ugh, I give up.” She let her head drop again and kept mumbling while I stared at her. I hoped someone would eventually search for me so I could escape what I just knew was a practical joke or one of those funny video shows.

  “He’s glazed over,” Thaddeus said. “Just snatch him up and toss him in the car, then we can get back to Schwarzwald. I detest this place, this... Jacksonville. Who was Jackson, and why would he settle in such a humid place? My clothes are stuck to every bit of my skin.”

  “Perhaps if you’d chosen to wear normal clothing instead of leather from head to toe, you would be more comfortable and less annoying,” Seline said, prompting me to look at Thaddeus. He was, in fact, dressed from head to foot in leather. It was not the typical biker garb one would expect. His clothing was faded and well-worn, comfortable looking, but not what one would want to wear in sunny Jacksonville, not even in late fall.

  “Enough about that. Let’s take him and explain on the way,” Thaddeus said again, earning a glare from Henry.

  “Thad, you’re not helping. We cannot kidnap a police detective,” Jemma scolded.

  “And as your commanding officer, I order you to stop suggesting we steal him away in the night. Need I remind you Thirteen is his mother?” Henry scolded. “Thirteen—I mean, Jeanine—she might be a lovely woman, but if you harm her son—”

  “Are you all insane?” I blurted. “What the heck are you trying to pull? This is a police station, and I have real work to do. Do I need to lock you all in the drunk tank or admit you for psychiatric evaluation?”

  “Ironically, the last person we helped was locked in a psychiatric hospital. We probably should have brought her, then maybe this would have gone better,” Seline said. “But seriously, can we skip the story-telling drama and get to the important part? You shift, in fact, you shift tonight if I’m not mistaken?”

  “I what? I shift? That makes no sense at all. And why tonight?” I asked, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. The last time a crazy kook cornered me and asked a bunch of strange questions, I ended up getting the snot beat out of me by my foster father.

  “The full moon?” Henry asked. “The wolf shift. That happens tonight, right?”

  “Okay,” I said and grabbed my files. “I think that’ll be enough crazy talk for today. You’re all free to go.” I started to leave, but Henry addressed me again.

  “Are you saying you don’t shift?” he asked.

  I spun around. “I’m saying this is nonsense. No, I do not shift into anything but a lazy slug when I get home from work, even on full moons. Thanks for your help with the purse thief, but I think we’ve got it from here. I’d recommend you lay off whatever drugs you’ve been taking and stop alluding to kidnapping people before you end up in jail.”

  Jemma blinked and glanced at Seline. “There’s no way he’s not the guy. He’s definitely Tristan Dressaur. Look at him. He’s the spitting image of his mother.”

  “I agree, but it can’t be him if he doesn’t shift. Maybe he just looks an awful lot like him?” Seline asked.

  “Anyway,” I interrupted, “I have things to do. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going home. Feel free to compose yourselves and leave when you’re ready.” I scurried out of the interview room before they could stop me again. Wherever they had come from, I hoped they’d head home fast. I didn’t want or need any trouble in my life, not again.

  I managed to get out of the interview room, say my goodbyes to Penopolous, and disappear before Henry or his band of crazy friends could catch me. On my way home, all I could think about was how to avoid getting stuck in a room with any of them again. I wasn’t sure why, but I felt I hadn’t seen the last of them. They seemed certain I was the guy they were looking for, so I doubted they would give up easily.

  By the time I reached the house, I’d nearly fallen asleep behind the wheel twice and forgotten half of what I’d planned to do that night. Chris was home and parked in my spot, but I didn’t have the energy to fuss at him. Instead, I parked on the street and hurried inside. I couldn’t shake the feeling someone was watching me.

  The second the door closed behind me I was enveloped in the chaos. Ophelia fussed at Jordan who periodically rolled his eyes or made funny impressions of her when she turned her back. Ross was playing a game online and frequently shouted at his opponent while Chris desperately tried to clean up the clutter so we could eat dinner. Rebecca would have grounded us all after one look at the messy house, but then she would have praised us for anything and everything she could think of. Leaving the house to us in her will was her last act of kindness, but her presence was still felt in every square inch of it.

  I grabbed Chris by the elbow and urged him to follow me. He did so without question, probably because I was acting a bit nuts. I realized I was shaking, almost terrified of what might happen if I saw Henry and his friends again. Once we were in my bedroom, I shut the door and locked it.

  “What is wrong with you, Park?” Chris asked, already concerned.

  “That guy who helped this afternoon kept asking about the thing,” I said.

  “The thing? Oh! How did they know?” he whispered. Neither of us desired to add stress to the household by telling everyone there might be strange people out there who knew what I was and wanted to take me away.

  “I have no idea. They just blurted it out like it was no big deal. It was so strange, then they started talking about a woman named Jeanine who is supposedly my mother, and curses and murder—seriously, dude, they were either all on drugs or...” I trailed, choosing not to believe in magical curses even though I should since I most definitely did shift, just not into a wolf and not on a full moon.

  “What are we gonna do?” Chris asked.

  I shrugged. “No idea. They kept saying I shift into a wolf, so they don’t know as much as they think they do. Still, they sure behaved as if they were sure of who I am—was, whatever.”

  “You know we need to tell the others. This could affect them, too, Park,” he reasoned. I knew he was right, but I didn’t know how to tell them. They all knew about the shifting. Each of them had seen it at least once, and after an initial period of freaking out, they grew to accept what I was—a quirk of nature that wouldn’t harm a hair on their heads even though I was crazy scary-looking when I shifted.

  “I know. Just let me get a handle on how I feel about it, maybe try to run a background check on these guys before we go off the deep end. There’s always a chance they really are on drugs, and it was all a great big coincidence,” I said. I wished that was the case but felt it wasn’t.

  Chris nodded and sat on my bed, then ran his dark hands over his buzzed
hair. “What are we going to do if they aren’t weirdos or druggies? The last time—”

  “I know. I’ll skip town before anything like that can happen again. You know I won’t let anything happen to them,” I said, pointing toward my door. No way I’d let anyone near my family, not again. Chris seemed to relax, then he sucked in a deep breath and stood.

  “I’ll get you some food. Just rest a while and think. I’ll tell the others you’ve got a migraine or something,” he said with his hand on the door handle. “Are you okay?”

  I fell backward onto my bed and stared at the same crack in the ceiling I’d stared at for the past ten years. “I’m a nervous wreck, but I’ll feel better once I know what I’m dealing with. I might go out later after I rest a bit.”

  “Want some company?” he offered.

  “No, I meant out. Maybe if I let the thing out for a while, I’ll stop falling asleep at totally random times,” I admitted, realizing I hadn’t let the beast hunt in nearly six months. It was time.

  He narrowed his eyes but said nothing as he left. By the time Chris returned with my pizza, I figured I’d be fast asleep. At least, that was the plan, but my phone began blowing up with messages. They were all from an unknown number. I read through each one, growing more concerned. The sender was clearly outside my home, and I had a good feeling it was one of the crazy people from the station.

  Each message was increasingly insistent—look out the window, come outside, I’m waiting out here! It was clear the sender wouldn’t leave until I went outside to hear what he or she had to say. I hesitated, but the messages kept coming. If I didn’t go, there was a chance one of my family members would be accosted next.

  I groaned and got off my bed, then lifted the blinds. I peered out the window and immediately saw Jemma across the street, leaning against a crooked streetlamp. It was growing dark, just dark enough she could hide in the shadows if she chose. Instead, she planted herself right under the brightest light on the street. I opened the window to climb out rather than walk back through the house. I sprinted across the street as she shoved her phone in her pocket.

  “Jemma,” I said when I reached her. “This is uncool on many levels. How do you know where I live, and how do you have my personal phone number?”

  She sighed deeply, then ignored my questions completely. “This isn’t how I wanted to do this. We came once before in search of Jeanine’s son, but when we came up empty after months of searching, we went back home to regroup. Honestly, I’d almost given up hope entirely, then my attention shifted to finding my mother... Well, that’s not the point. The point is, the entire flight here I practiced what I’d say to you. I tried to think of a way to explain this life without sounding like I’d lost my mind, but the truth is I think maybe I have.”

  There was sadness about her that was almost palpable. It was the sadness of someone who’d lost a lot and knew there was plenty more to lose but was powerless to stop it. I knew that feeling all too well. It made me want to give her a chance to speak her mind even if I wasn’t so sure what she had to say was true in any way.

  “Why don’t we take a walk?” I offered.

  She gave me a small smile, forced, and short-lived. “Sure.”

  I walked toward the next block, and she kept a steady pace with me. We walked in silence for a while, then she grew brave enough to try explaining herself again.

  “When I was seven, this incredible thing happened to me. Then when I was thirteen, I discovered why it happened. About a year ago, I got my family back, my real family—all except my mom, who is somewhere out there looking for me. None of us asked for what happened to us, but we can’t change the past. All we can do is move forward. For me, moving forward means trying hard to convince you I’m not crazy, and what I have to say to you is the truth.”

  “At least you’re self-aware. I’m not sure I could say the crazy things you’ve said with a straight face,” I said.

  She chuckled, then kicked a rock down the sidewalk. “I turned into a wolf when I was seven. Just out of the blue, bam! I fell asleep one night, and the next morning, I woke up covered with blood with no memory of what happened. A couple months later I figured it out but knowing what happened didn’t tell me why it happened. I struggled for a long time before help came for me. My cousins had it even worse, so I get it. I really do. I’d like to think explaining this gets easier in time, but it seems like it’s only more difficult.”

  I paused to look at her fully. Once she stopped and turned toward me, I could read her better. “Maybe we should start from the beginning. Where have you come from?” I asked.

  She chuckled again. “See, that’s what makes me think you’re keeping something from me. I tell you I turn into a wolf, and your first question isn’t about that. Instead, you want to know where I come from. Why is that?”

  I tried to think quickly, but all I came up with was, “Well, I’m not sure I believe you turn into a wolf, so the logical question seemed to be where are you from?”

  “Germany. Now, tell me why my wolf curse isn’t surprising to you,” she insisted, then began walking again. I kept quiet, choosing to give her the silent treatment rather than show my hand. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll tell you what I know. You’re the son of Jeanine Benson, also known as Thirteen. She’s the youngest sister of the Thirteen Fairies of Weisserwald. Perhaps you know them as the fairies in the tale of Sleeping Beauty?” she asked.

  “Sure,” I lied, having never read the original tale. I wasn’t much of a reader, and if I were, I probably wouldn’t read fairy tales.

  “You’re a bad liar. Anyway, from what we can decipher, Rose, the princess at the time of your first life, cursed you and your mother. Why I can’t say, but it stands to reason it was because she was infected by evil, or maybe she welcomed it. I’m not sure, but she must be stopped. The problem is, there is a forcefield of sorts around Weisserwald, so no one can get in to see exactly what’s happening there.”

  I paused again. “Weisserwald? In Germany?”

  “Yes, in the Black Forest. It’s your home, Parker. Your real name is Tristan Dressaur, by the way. I realize it’s a lot to take in. Considering you don’t shift for some strange reason, I’m sure it’s even more difficult to believe, but it’s true. I guess the curse Rose used was somehow different from everyone else’s.”

  I felt immense guilt that I continued to lie to her about shifting, but there had to be a certain level of trust before I could blurt out the truth. “The wolf thing, why would you think I’m one, too?” I asked.

  “Oh, that’s easy. I just assumed since the rest of us are wolves that you would be as well. It never really occurred to me until now that your curse could be different,” she responded with a shrug. “I can show you if it would help you trust me.”

  “Show me what?” I asked, but she grabbed my arm and dragged me down the road instead of answering.

  “Is there a wooded area anywhere near here?” she asked.

  “Yeah, actually. The back of the neighborhood is wooded, but not thickly. Why?” Stupid question to ask, because she turned around and dragged me that way. I hesitated momentarily, thinking it was rather foolish to follow a crazy stranger into the woods, then remembered I had a gun, so I was relatively safe—I hoped. Ten paces into the woods she released me and jogged ahead. When she was a good distance from me, she stood stock-still and stared at me—then she turned into a wolf.

  “What the... Holy crap,” I said just as she shifted back.

  “Cool, huh? Bet you wish you could do it too,” she teased. The guilt hitched in my chest again and, because I liked to fly by the seat of my pants sometimes, I decided she’d earned my trust. Jemma turned into a ferocious wolf right in front of me to prove a point. The least I could do was show her what I was. Truth be told, I hoped she could tell me what I was since I had no idea.

  “I lied. I’m sorry,” I admitted.

  “I know you did, but I figured you’d eventually come around. Feel like hunting?” she offe
red, which felt like a very out-of-place thing to ask another human, yet at the same time, it made all the sense in the world. However, she was still working under the assumption that I was a wolf.

  “Well, you see, I think maybe you should see what I am before you decide to go hunting with me. I lied to you to protect my family, but... I’m not sure, for some reason I trust you, and I find myself hoping you can help me if I help you.”

  “Absolutely. That’s the whole reason I’m here. I totally understand wanting to protect your family but accepting what I have to say can protect them more in the long run. You can trust me, Parker, but the moon is rising soon, so let’s get moving.”

  “Wait, that’s what you don’t understand. You were right before. The curse must be different because I’m not a wolf. I wasn’t lying about that. I’m a... I-I truly have no idea what I am, but I’ll show you if you promise to keep my family out of this,” I said, dropping my hands to my side with a great sigh.

  She got a quirky little expression on her face, which was quite adorable, but I shook any and all thoughts of Jemma being cute from my mind. I had to focus on what was important—protecting my family while potentially getting a lead on whatever the heck I was. If I could figure it out, maybe I could also rid myself of it. Jemma dipped her head slightly to the left, and her lips parted, but she remained silent. I took a few steps back so I wouldn’t harm her, then I let the burning take over.

  I heard her gasp as my skin began to glow deep red, something like lava bubbling just under the surface. Then my body contorted, a bit painfully I might add, into the shape of a giant leopard-like cat. Ophelia once said I looked like a snow leopard before the transformation was complete. I felt my body curl in half, and I stood on all four paws. My fur coat was thick and white, covered with the typical leopard print, but as soon as my feet were settled, my back began to ache. From just under my shoulder blades, a pair of black, raven-like wings erupted. They flung out wide, knocking a few trees aside before settling against my back in a folded position. I knelt so I wouldn’t tower over Jemma.