by Cheree Alsop
Mr. Flinn sat on the edge of a desk, his glasses lopsided on his nose. He gave me a worried frown as two more students hurried out the door, leaving us alone in the classroom. “How’s the Shifter doing?”
Surprised, my mouth fell open. “Mr. Flinn?”
He shook his head with an apologetic shrug. “You haven’t been the same since we first talked about the one you met. I assumed your lack of interest in my class had more to do with that than my excellent teaching.” He gave me a kind smile. “Am I right?”
I nodded. “They hurt him,” I said against my will.
Mr. Flinn straightened his glasses and the worried look on his face deepened. “Your father’s taking care of him?”
I nodded again, afraid of saying too much.
“Well,” Mr. Flinn continued with a nod of respect at my silence. “If anyone can help him, Mr. March can. Your father’s quite the man.”
Thinking of the way my parents had accepted the injured wolf Shifter into their home regardless of the possible danger it brought, I nodded again.
Mr. Flinn rose back to his feet. “If you ever need someone to talk to that isn’t involved, I’m here.”
“Thank you, Professor,” I replied, touched. I rose and slung my backpack over one shoulder. I was almost to the door when Mr. Flinn’s voice made me turn.
“From what I’ve learned through my own research, Shifters are truly part human and part animal.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, glancing behind me to make sure no one else was listening.
“A Shifter has the instinct of both the human and the animal. There’s so much we could learn from them about the ways of our fellow creatures,” he mused. “Most animals don’t do well in a cage, and that’s the one thing society would give them.” He frowned slightly, his voice lower. “Most humans don’t do well in a cage, either.” He was staring ahead, his gaze distant. He fell silent in his thoughts. I left him there, my own thoughts, if anything, more troubled.
***
I woke up late that night. I had gotten home in time to reheat a quick dinner, then fell into bed exhausted from helping Dad repaint the kennel room. I wondered what had woken me, then I heard a muffled sound from downstairs.
Suddenly alert, I grabbed my hockey stick from the side of my dresser and rose from the bed, my bare feet making no sound on the carpeted floor. I reached the bottom of the stairs and peeked through the doorway to the left, expecting to see Falconans in the living room.
To my surprise, Marek leaned on one of the armchairs favoring his hurt leg. His chest was heaving as though he had run a marathon. In the light of the moon streaming through the windows, he looked pale and worn. In the few glimpses I had seen of him over the past two weeks, he had been mostly asleep, trying to regain his strength. Now Fellow stood anxiously at Marek’s feet and looked at me with a worried wave of his tail.
“What are you doing?” I asked quietly, afraid that he would hurt himself.
Startled, Marek turned toward me, ready for an attack. A flash of pain crossed his face as he placed his full weight on the injured leg, and he stumbled. I ran forward and caught his arm before he could fall. I helped him to the couch, trying not to look as worried as I felt about the sheen of sweat that made his clothes stick to his body.
Marek sat on the couch in silence, his expression unreadable. I could feel his eyes on me. I looked away, ashamed of how I had avoided him. “I’m sorry,” I said finally, taking a seat on the armchair he had been leaning against.
Marek smiled, surprising me. “It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t be out here. This is your house and you have a right to be anywhere you want to.”
I shook my head. “No, not that. Well, I am sorry for startling you,” I replied quickly at his raised eyebrows. I caught the beginnings of another smile and felt a blush steal across my cheeks. “I mean, I’m sorry for not visiting you more. It must be lonely in Kip’s room.”
Marek shrugged, then winced, rubbing his shoulder with his good hand. “This is a nice place. You and your parents have been great. I won’t be a bother much longer.”
“You’re not a bother, it’s. . . .” I processed what he had said and my heart fell. “You mean, you’re leaving?”
Marek nodded, his eyes on the little black dog at his feet. “My being here puts your family in constant danger. I couldn’t live with myself if the Falconans returned and hurt you, Kip, your parents, or Rosie.” His voice grew soft, his eyes distant. He was quiet for a moment, then whispered, “No more little ones will suffer on my account.” He looked at me, his eyes suddenly intense. “You’ve got to keep Rosie safe, and Kip. You can’t do that with me here.”
I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. I wanted to tell him that May’s death wasn’t his fault, that he should stay, that the pack could take care of the Lost without him; but I remembered little Whisper, Flint’s silence, and Raven wandering around the Den aimlessly, his arm still in a sling. The kidnapped children weren’t the only Lost there. Marek was more to them than just another pack mate. They needed him because he had always been there for them and had never let them down.
Even though my heart ached, I nodded. I couldn’t keep him away if he felt the only way to keep the pack safe was to be there. “I understand,” I said quietly.
“Thank you,” Marek replied.
I stared at him, confused.
The wolf Shifter’s eyes reflected gold in the moonlight for a second. He seemed to look right through me. He dropped his gaze after a moment. “I felt like I needed your approval. You’ve done so much for me and the pack. It wouldn’t be right for me to leave if you didn’t understand why I have to.”
Something bothered me. I didn’t know if I should bring it up, but I realized with a sting of loss that there might not be a later. “What will you do now that the labs have moved? How will you find the Lost so Galbran doesn’t get them?”
“I don’t know,” Marek replied. He pushed himself slowly off the couch. Leaning on a bat he had brought from Kip’s room, he made his way toward me. “The pack will have to decide together. There’s got to be a way to find them.” He shook his head, his hair falling in front of his eyes. The frustration and anger I had seen in his gaze whenever he was awake and thought that no one was looking appeared.
He gritted his teeth. “They have to be found. Galbran and Shane have to be stopped.” He stood there quiet and brooding, his thoughts obviously on May and that horrible night. I could see it in his eyes, the pain, loss, and fear. It was eating him up inside. He swayed where he stood and seemed to come back to reality. He glanced at me. “I should get back to bed.”
I followed him to the stairs and helped him slowly up them. Marek fell into Kip’s bed with an exhausted sigh. Kip, sprawled out on a sleeping bag on the floor nearby, didn’t budge.
I turned to go, then stopped myself. Who knew if he would be there when I got back from school tomorrow? Maybe I would never see him again. I turned back. “It wasn’t your fault.” I remembered May’s laugh, so carefree and sweet like Rosie’s, and bit my lip, fighting against tears that burned my eyes.
Marek didn’t answer. He looked out the window beside me at the crescent moon that topped the trees. I started to wonder if he had heard me. Maybe he was more tired than I thought. I turned to go, but his voice stopped me. “I still have those dreams.” I turned back to him, my mind racing over our conversation, wondering what dreams we had talked about. Marek’s soft answer drew me nearer and I knelt by the edge of the bed to hear him. “I still have the dreams of the wolf Galbran talked about.”
The tape recorder was still buried in the back corner of my closet. I never wanted to listen to that voice again. Hearing Marek mention it made me feel cold. I shivered and pulled my robe tighter.
“I see myself running through the forest; I know every tree and rock, every blade of grass and eagle cry. The woods breathe life, comfort, and home. I hear howls and know who gives them. When I howl, I hear myself telling the world
who I am, who I care about, and where my home is. The pack is safe, and there is peace.” He turned his head to face me, his voice quiet and tired. “That same feeling of peace is here in your home. Protect it, Kyla. You have something priceless and irreplaceable.” He closed his eyes. “Take care of it.”
I rose and walked quietly to the door. I shut it softly behind me, then leaned against it. “I will,” I whispered before crossing the hallway to my room.
Chapter 40- Marek
When I woke the next day, I was surprised to find Mrs. March sitting on the side of my bed. She smiled at me and smoothed my hair back from my forehead with a touch that reminded me so much of my own mother I had to force myself not to turn away.
“You’ve been through more than I hope my children ever know,” she said with a sad smile.
“I’m afraid I’ve brought it to your door,” I replied. I pushed to a sitting position and she put some pillows behind me to help me sit up.
“The world is there,” Mrs. March replied. “All we have to do is leave our home to find it.”
I watched her, uncertain what to say. Mrs. March rose and picked up Kip’s discarded sleeping bag. She folded it with a thoughtful expression on her face. “Matt was able to go with Phoenix to take two of the children home yesterday.”
I nodded with a smile, recalling Kip’s enthusiastic recount of Mr. March’s and Phoenix’s successful delivery. Kip had stayed at the Den, but he told it as if he had been there. I was relieved it had been quiet and uneventful as far as Falconans were concerned, even though I knew Phoenix was probably disappointed. “They did a good job. Ricky and Mina’s families are probably having a huge celebration.”
Mrs. March nodded, but I could tell her thoughts were elsewhere. “What is it?” I asked her gently after a moment of silence had passed. “What’s wrong?”
Mrs. March smoothed the sleeping bag in her arms. “It’s just. . . I’ve seen how you guys live, Marek.” She thought about what she said, then looked horrified at what it seemed she was implying. She rushed forward in a way that reminded me of Kyla, worried that she had offended me. “I mean, the Den is great, it’s amazing even. You have so much there and accomplish so much. It’s just. . . .”
I gave her a nod of encouragement. “Go on. It’s okay.”
“I. . .” Mrs. March sighed, then pushed on, “I’m just not sure it’s the proper place to raise a little girl.”
“You mean Whisper.”
She nodded. “Marek, she looks up to you so much, and you take such good care of her. I know she’s happy there.”
“But she’s missing out on some other important things,” I finished. Mrs. March nodded, but didn’t speak. I took a breath, testing the way my lungs pushed against my tender shoulder. I let it out slowly. “I know she needs a mother, a real family.” I met her eyes.
Mrs. March nodded. “Marek, can she stay here? You know we can care for her. She’ll be one of our own.”
I felt an ache that had nothing to do with the bullet wounds. I studied my hands. “Whisper is such a special little girl. She’s like my little sister. I’ve always treated her as such.”
Kyla’s mom nodded.
“I know you would give her the best possible family.” I shook my head, not wanting to draw her on. “But she’s a Shifter, one of the few left.”
“That doesn’t matter to us,” Mrs. March replied in full honesty.
“I know it doesn’t,” I said. “And that means more than you could ever imagine.” I thought about how best to say what I needed to without alarming her. After a moment of silence, I gave up and told her the truth, knowing she deserved to hear it after all she had done for us. “The Falconans won’t give up until Whisper and Raven are captured and the rest of the Shifters are killed.” At her wide eyes, I rushed on, “The creators of the Falconans are still struggling. They have yet to develop a flawless model, which is why they are still kidnapping instead of cloning.
“The Falconans can’t fly. So far, only the bird Shifters are able to do so, which is the only thing keeping the Falconans from being the perfect soldiers. Whisper and Raven both have bones that are hollow; it makes them light enough to fly when they shift.”
“So this Galbran will do experiments on them if he finds them.”
It was a statement, not a question, but I nodded anyway. “He won’t care if what he does kills them as long as he gets the information he needs.” My tone became grim. “The only way he’ll get them is if I’m dead. I’ve dedicated my life to the Shifters and the Lost.” I met her eyes, the same green color as Kyla’s, but without the flecks of blue. “I’ll keep her safe. I promise.” I ignored the knife-edged voice in my mind that reminded me of the little girl I hadn’t been able to protect.
Mrs. March must have seen something on my face, because she nodded. She set the folded sleeping bag on the dresser, then turned back to me. “Just promise me one thing.”
“Anything.”
“If you need help, or someone to watch the children for any reason, you won’t hesitate to ask.”
I nodded, smiling at how her hopeful expression turned to one of relief. “I won’t hesitate, I promise. And I might have to bring Whisper to visit now and then, if you don’t mind too much.”
Mrs. March laughed. “I would like that very much.”
***
I made my way slowly around my room. It was good to be back at the Den. Whisper hadn’t let me out of her sight, and had drawn pictures on the walking stick Mr. March had given me until her eyes were so heavy she looked like she would fall to sleep where stood. Phoenix carried her off to bed, Flint and Shadow rubbing their eyes as they trailed after him. Raven, more solemn than I ever remembered him being, said goodnight and made his way to his own room. The bird Shifter’s arm was still in a sling. Mr. March had done the best he could. Only time would tell if Raven would ever fly again.
I limped around the perimeter of my room. My leg ached, but I couldn’t sit still. I felt like I was burning inside, like I had so much to do, but nothing to do at the same time. There were three more Lost left to return home. Phoenix had done a good job while I was gone. It was after all the Lost were home that I dreaded.
I made my way to the punching bag and stared at it. What if we couldn’t find where Galbran had moved the labs? What if we couldn’t stop the kidnapping? I thought of May and found myself wondering whether being a Falconan would have been a better fate than death. Catching myself, I growled and punched the bag as hard as I could.
Pain throbbed from the healing wounds, but I ignored it. I hit the bag again and again. Rage built inside of me, hopeless fury at all that had happened. I punched the bag until my wounds started to bleed, but I didn’t care. The pain drove the desperation from my mind. I forced the anger, sorrow, and frantic frustration I felt into each punch. The bag jumped on its chain; the cloth surface turned dark with blood from my knuckles, but I didn’t care. I hit the bag until I couldn’t raise my arms anymore and the whirlwind of thoughts was a numb, meaningless void in my mind.
I stumbled back to my bed and sat down, leaning the walking stick near the headboard. A scent touched my nose. I looked at the nightstand in surprise. Slowly, I picked up the only picture I owned. I could smell Kyla’s scent on the frame. She had been here, in my room. My heart gave a strange thump at the thought.
I hadn’t told her goodbye. She and Kip had both been at school when I asked Mr. March to drive me home. “My children look up to you,” Mr. March had said on the drive to the Den. I appreciated the easy way he spoke to me, like we were equals. I valued his good opinion.
“You have excellent children,” I replied truthfully.
Mr. March nodded in agreement. “I wish I could take full credit for that, but they’re the ones that are making the right choices.” He glanced at me. “You are, too. I’m amazed at the way you’ve taken care of these kids and made them a home. You have great leadership abilities.”
“Leaders aren’t born, they’re created by ci
rcumstance,” I said, looking out the side window.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. March nod thoughtfully. “I like that.”
I turned back to him, my throat suddenly tight. “Will you make sure Kyla’s okay? She’s been through a lot, and I haven’t been much help lately.”
Seeming unsurprised by the change of subject, Mr. March nodded. “She’s a strong girl, but she’s still young. She really cares about you, you know.”
I brushed my hair out of my eyes by habit, my mind racing through the past few weeks. I owed Kyla everything, including my life. But I couldn’t stay. Too much depended on me. “I didn’t want to hurt her.”
Mr. March nodded. “She’ll be okay. Just make sure you take care of yourself and the others.”
Now, I stared hard at the picture. My mother, father, and brother smiled happily at the camera.
***
I woke up early. Even though I was tired, I couldn’t sleep past the memories that chased themselves around in my head. I paced the dark room slowly, not bothering to turn on the lights. I leaned on the walking stick more than I wanted to. I had pushed myself too hard the last couple of days.
They had to be out there. That thought kept running through my head like a maddening chant. Raven and I had searched every site we knew on the Internet, following every lead to a frustrating dead end. Phoenix prowled the streets at night on his motorcycle. He hoped to run into them by chance, but we all knew how slim that possibility was. I doubted the labs were still located in Charlton.
I shifted into wolf form. Scar tissue pulled and ached at the sudden change. I ignored it. Being in this form took some of the weight off my leg. It felt good to be a wolf again, like coming home after being away for a long time, or putting on a pair of well broken-in shoes molded by time to fit only the wearer’s feet. I shook myself, than began to pace the room in a mile-eating stride.
