Autumn's War (The Spirit Shifters Book 4) (13 page)

“Thank you,” said Lakota, and set about standing them up around his daughter. Autumn picked a couple up and began to help. “They need to be far enough away so she won’t knock them over,” Lakota explained.

“Is this going to hurt her?” Autumn asked.

“No more than she’s already hurting.”

She didn’t think that was much of an answer.

Wenona offered a box of long-stemmed matches, and Lakota made his way around, lighting the wicks. Each time one sparked to life, he took a pinch of the herbs he carried in the pouch around his neck, and dropped them into the flame. Smoke rose into the air, thick and white. Even after the herbs should all have burned, the smoke continued, collecting in a strange white cloud above their heads.

Lakota sat with his legs crossed, his forearms rested on his knees, his palms lifted up. Everyone fell silent, even the part-shifters seemed to relax in his presence. He began to sing, a low, melodic song that seemed to be more hums than words.

Something began to stir in the cloud of smoke above their heads. A flick of movement sent a burst of smoke outward to dissipate in the air. Lakota’s song grew louder, and the smoke stretched outward in the shape of a wing. The detail was intricate enough for Autumn to make out the pattern of feathers. Something dipped down from the bottom of the cloud, as if observing the woman below. It was the smooth head of a bird.

She understood what she was looking at. This was the spirit bound to Tala, the one that was fighting for control of her body. The huge bird gradually took on more shape, and as it did so, Tala’s body became more human. She began to relax, her expression almost at peace for the first time since she’d injected Autumn’s blood.

The white bird beat its wings, and suddenly dived down, toward Tala.

Autumn suppressed a scream of warning. But the smoke bird hit Tala and dispersed into white tendrils, which vanished into the air.

Lakota fell silent, and lifted his head. “It is done.”

Autumn looked toward Tala. The remaining parts of the bird began to vanish from her body. The young woman, who was naked except for her long black hair which fell over her shoulders and breasts, gradually began to lift herself from the floor. Her slender limbs no longer showed any sign of the quills of feathers, her bones long and straight. Though at first her expression was confused, the bewilderment cleared and she blinked around at everyone standing around her as though she’d woken from a deep sleep.

Chogan picked up a blanket folded on the back of a chair, and hurried over to his cousin to cover her nudity.

“Tala,” said Lakota, studying her face. “How are you feeling?”

She blinked at him and then smiled. “Father? I’m better now. I feel … almost normal.”

“Is the spirit still with you?”

She nodded. “I can sense it, like a part of my mind has been sectioned off and belongs to the spirit crow now. But it doesn’t feel like it’s battling me anymore.”

A slow smile spread across Lakota’s face. “That is excellent.” The smile vanished. “Tala, there is someone here you owe a substantial apology to.” He turned to Autumn.

Autumn didn’t know how to take the situation. Part of her was still furious with Tala, but what happened felt like a long time ago—even though it wasn’t—and it all felt as though it happened to another person. She was also aware of Tala’s family, of the trauma they’d all been through over the last few days. Chogan still seemed eager to make up for his mistakes, while Blake had troubles of his own. Lakota looked over them all, wanting them to be safe. She couldn’t stand to make things difficult for everyone else.

Tala bowed her head. “I’m sorry, Autumn. I don’t know what I was thinking. I wanted to be a shifter so badly, I didn’t care about anyone else. It was like the need took over me and turned me into someone else.”

What was she supposed to say? I forgive you? Because deep down, she wasn’t sure she had forgiven Tala. And why should she, just because Tala had decided to say sorry? How hard was it to conjure up a word? But then, hadn’t Tala punished herself enough? She’d been tortured for the past week, in constant pain. She’d experienced what it was like to be taken by force and held somewhere against her will.

Had Tala been punished enough?

But Autumn sensed the eyes of all those she cared about watching her nervously for her reaction. Something dawned on her. It didn’t matter about what Tala had been through, or even how she felt herself. What mattered was to make everyone else feel easy and at peace with this tiny part of the puzzle. There wasn’t much she could control. She couldn’t make Blake walk again, or make Vivian Winters no longer exist, or make society accept the shifters without question. But this part she could control.

“We’ll start afresh, Tala.” She tried not to let the words taste bitter in her mouth. Around her, she sensed everyone else relax. Though she wanted to be gracious, she was also the leader here, and Tala needed to know her place. “But if I get even a hint that you’re up to no good, you will be extradited from the group. Is this understood?”

Tala pressed her lips together and nodded. “Understood.”

“Good.”

Lakota gave his daughter’s hand a squeeze and they exchanged a smile of relief.

Autumn got to her feet and made her way over to where Romero was still stuck in the same mid-shift from which Lakota had just freed his daughter. Pelts of fur covered his cheeks and forehead, his nose still with a black covering, but his eyes appeared human, as did his mouth. He barely responded to her approaching, exhaustion and pain pinning him to the floor. Sorrow for Romero filled her heart. He might have been on the wrong side of all of this at the start, but he’d not asked for this. He’d been a victim of Vivian Winters, the same as she had.

She glanced over her shoulder to see Lakota approaching. Tala was picking up the candles, and she brought them, two by two, over to rearrange them around Romero. They all needed to keep their distance. Romero’s wolf was fierce and thought nothing of taking a swipe at one of them if it was in control of a limb or two when they got too close.

“I’ll need to repeat the process as I did with Tala,” Lakota said, when all of the candles were rearranged and lit. “I’ll need quiet.”

Autumn nodded and moved back to sit with Chogan, Tala, and the others.

Lakota moved around the candles and dropped herbs from the pouch into the flames, smoke rising into the air. Romero bucked and snarled inside the circle. It occurred to Autumn that what she was witnessing was similar to an exorcism, except, instead of banishing the spirit, they were welcoming it.

Lakota sat, cross-legged, on the inside of the circle of candles. He bowed his head and began to sing in the ancient, harmonic tones of tribal people from generations before.

As had happened with Tala, white smoke gathered above Romero’s body. Autumn’s eyes were glued to the cloud, her breath held in anticipation of catching a glimpse of the creature that had been tormenting Romero.

There it was! The flick of a bushy tail, the paddling of a paw. The wolf began to take shape, and as it did, Lakota’s song grew louder and more powerful. The wolf’s head lifted from the smoke, and though Autumn heard nothing, she recognized the familiar action of a wolf howling to the sky.

Then it lowered its head and dropped from the air above Romero, the cloud hitting the man’s body, before it vanished.

The wolf’s fur began to melt from his skin. All signs of the animal disappeared, though Autumn knew its spirit would be somewhere nearby.

Romero’s eyes fluttered open.

He was naked in front of a group of strangers. Quickly, Autumn got to her feet and grabbed a throw from the couch, draping it over his nude torso. “How are you feeling?” she risked asking.

He frowned. “Better. Not in pain anymore. Though I can still see something else. I mean, in my head I can see tree trunks, and I’m running, and there’s dirt beneath my feet.” He gave his head a shake. “I don’t know. I’m not sure that’s what I mean to say.”

Chogan moved in, crouching beside Autumn and his uncle. “It’s okay. What you’re seeing is right. Your wolf has accepted you now, and it’s free to do as it wants, just as you are. But if you need it, you can call it and it will come. Then you will shift.”

He shook his head, frantic. “I don’t want to shift. Can’t you just make it go away?”

Lakota spoke. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. Once a spirit guide has been bonded, only death will break you apart. All I have done is make the spirit guide at peace with you. It will no longer fight you for your body. Only when you call it, will you share the same form.”

Chogan placed a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Don’t be frightened of shifting. Yes, it hurts while it is happening, but the pain doesn’t last. Once you take on the full form of the wolf, you will feel freer and more powerful than you ever have in your life.”

“I don’t want to be a God-damned wolf! I want to go home to my family.”

Autumn shook her head. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. As I’m sure you know shifters and everyone associated with shifters are being persecuted by the government and the military. For the moment, I doubt anyone knows or cares you’ve been released and the shift has been corrected, but if you go back to your family and someone reports on you, you could find your wife and child being arrested and taken to one of the facilities your people have set up to contain shifters.”

His eyes widened. “But I never wanted to be a shifter! Vivian made me this way. I haven’t done anything wrong, and neither have my family.”

“Do you think the military are going to care?” Chogan butted in, his tone sharp. “No one cared that shifters had done nothing wrong before they started experimenting on us, and then rounding us up like cattle.” His voice grew more heated as he spoke, his body tense.

Autumn touched his arm. “Hey, Chogan. It’s not his fault either. He was doing his job. I’m sure he understands that he’s switched sides now, don’t you Romero? None of the people working for Vivian Winters will be your friends now. Look at what happened to Calvin Thorne.”

Romero frowned. “Why, what happened?”

The thought of Thorne’s death made something coil sickening inside her. “He was helping us get you out, and your ex-colleague—and his—shot him. Thorne is dead. They’ll do exactly the same thing to you as soon as they see you. You’re one of us now, whether you like it or not.”

Romero’s gaze shifted between them all. His body sagged. “I just want to see my family. They’ll be so worried.”

Autumn glanced to Chogan. “I’m sure a phone call will be okay. Just a couple of minutes to let your wife and little girl know you’re fine. But don’t mention the shifter thing, okay?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. I’d only give them nightmares.”

Chapter Eighteen

WITH TALA AND Romero as far back to their normal selves as they would ever be, Autumn, Lakota, and Chogan turned their attention to Blake.

He remained lying across the back seat of Lakota’s truck, having refused to allow Chogan and Peter to carry him to the house. They’d not wanted to leave him out there, but what could be more humiliating than carrying him against his will? They’d decided to leave him, bringing water and a sandwich out to him, while they dealt with Tala and Romero.

They approached the vehicle. Autumn noted that while he’d drunk some of the water, the sandwich remained untouched. She wondered when he’d last eaten. He’d lost weight, though he remained a big man. The change in his physique was hard to tell when he was so different mentally.

With both rear doors opened, Autumn crouched beside Blake’s head. “Hey. I thought you’d want to know that Tala is better now. Your father helped her.”

For the first time, the hint of a smile touched Blake’s mouth. “That’s good.”

“Now it’s your turn. Your father might be able to do something to help you, too.”

“What’s wrong with me has nothing to do with the spirit world.”

“You don’t know that, Blake,” Lakota said from over Autumn’s shoulder. “You haven’t healed, and that could be a spiritual issue. You said your wolf wouldn’t come near you.”

“It knows I’m broken,” Blake snapped. “It’s got nothing to do with the spirits.”

“Doesn’t it? Perhaps it’s your spirit that is broken as much as your body?”

“I don’t need a goddamned lecture, Father. No one can help me.”

“Please, Blackened Hawk. Will you let me try? It’s all I ask.”

Autumn held her breath, waiting for his response. He was so volatile. Would even his father’s pleas soothe him?

“Okay, do as you want. It’ll make no difference to me.”

She exhaled, slow and measured.

“But don’t be disappointed when nothing happens.” His gaze locked on Autumn. “That goes for you too, Autumn. You don’t need a cripple for a boyfriend.”

She risked a smile. “So you’re admitting you’re still my boyfriend?”

He sent her a glare that said, ‘don’t push me’, and ice ran through her veins.

He was strong enough in his upper body to push himself to the open doorway, and then Chogan and Peter awkwardly pulled and lifted Blake from the vehicle.

Between them, they carried him to the house. Tala stood in the doorway to meet them. His sister smiled at him, but Autumn recognized the sadness in her eyes. If she could see herself, she imagined her smile would be much the same.

“I’m going to need the candles again,” said Lakota. “Put Blake in the armchair, and I’ll place the candles around that. I don’t want to see my son on the floor.”

The two men complied, placing Blake into the armchair—a high-back chair with worn upholstery that appeared to be Wenona’s favorite spot. The older woman watched from the doorway, her knuckles held anxiously at her mouth.

Autumn helped to move the candles.

Blake didn’t even look at them. She sensed how deeply embarrassed and uncomfortable this was making him, and her heart broke. She prayed Lakota would be able to make him walk again, or if not walk, at least give him some feeling back, some hope that his current position wasn’t permanent.

Lakota, too, must have picked up on Blake’s discomfort. “Please, everyone, can you leave? It’s best Blake and I do this alone.”

“But Father,” said Tala. “What if you need help?”

“Then I will call for you. Just go, please.”

Autumn began to file toward the door with the others.

Blake’s voice spoke out. “Not you, Autumn.”

She paused and turned back to him.

“Please, stay.”

She nodded, her heart lifting. “Of course.

Lakota moved around the chair, using a match to light each of the candles. This time, he didn’t burn the herbs.

“This is different to the others,” he said. “I’m not going to be binding a spirit, or placating one. I’m simply going to try to communicate with your wolf, and try to learn if its unwillingness to shift also has something to do with why you’re not healing.”

“I think you’re wasting your time, Father.”

“It is my time to waste. Now be quiet and try to concentrate.”

He crushed some of his herbs against Blake’s forehead, the oil in the mixture leaving a greasy smear against his smooth skin. Then he opened Blake’s hands, turning them up, and crushed another pinch of herbs into his palms. He sat, cross-legged in front of Blake in the chair, and repeated the application of the oil infused herbs to himself.

Autumn moved away, to give them space. She watched anxiously, her stomach in knots, her heart beating erratically. She didn’t think she’d ever wanted anything so badly in her life.

Lakota shut his eyes and began his song, a low, melodic hum which swelled and grew louder, filling the room. Blake’s eyes slipped shut as well.

She wished she could see what they could, somehow be a part of the experience rather than just a spectator. She hated feeling so utterly useless. The minutes ticked by, Lakota’s song barely seeming to change. She studied Blake intently, watching for any movement in the lower half of his body, willing him to move his legs.

Tension grew in the air, the hairs on her neck standing to attention, her skin prickling with goose bumps. She sensed a presence—or perhaps more than one—around her, and a shiver wracked through her body.

Lakota’s singing changed in timbre, becoming softer, and the charge she’d experienced in the air began to fade with it.

Both Lakota and Blake’s eyes flicked open at the exact same time.

Autumn held her breath in anticipation.

But Blake shook his head. “I feel no different, Father.”

Lakota slowly got to his feet and approached Blake to rest a hand on his shoulder. “I’ve asked for the spirits’ help, but you must be open to them. It may take time.”

“Or it may not work at all.”

“Try to keep your faith, Blackened Hawk. The ways of the spirit world are not always obvious to us at first. I agree your wolf is wary of you, but it may be more concerned with what is happening in here,” he touched Blake’s chest, right about his heart, “than with your legs.”

A cough came from the doorway, and Autumn looked up to find Wenona standing there.

“I have food almost ready, if you’d like to eat?” the older woman said.

Autumn smiled. “That would be amazing.” She turned to Blake. “Are you hungry?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m tired, that’s all.”

“You need to eat.”

“I need to rest.”

Wenona spoke up. “He can take the back bedroom. It’s all made up.”

“Thank you,” Autumn said. “Chogan, can you help?”

Chogan nodded. “Sure.”

He and Peter helped to lift Blake. Together, they carried him into the bedroom Wenona had pointed out. They lay him on the bed.

“Leave me alone now,” he said, lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Chogan and Autumn exchanged a glance, and Chogan shrugged and backed out of the room.

“You too, Autumn,” Blake said.

“I’d rather stay here with you.”

“Go and eat. You need your strength.”

“The same thing goes for you.”

He turned his face toward her and glared at her. “Please, Autumn. Don’t argue with me on top of everything else. I just need to get some sleep. I’ll eat after, okay?”

“I’ll make sure Wenona puts something aside for you.”

He didn’t respond. The hearty wafts of meat and gravy were drifting down the hallway, together with the aromatic scent of freshly baked bread. Her stomach growled in response. She was so hungry, she felt hollow.

With a sigh, she left Blake and headed out into the kitchen. Wenona had made up a couple of huge pots of stew, served with cornbread.

Numerous people were crammed around the huge old farmhouse table, while those from outside came in and grabbed hunks of bread, spooning meat onto it to create a kind of stew sandwich. She was pleased to see no one being greedy, and taking more than they needed. They were a lot of mouths, and the food had to stretch between them all.

“Wow,” she said, smiling at Wenona, who bustled back and forth from the table, clearing away dirty bowls and plates, rinsing them so others were able to use the tableware. “Where did you rustle all this up from?”

The other woman shrugged. “I don’t often get to the store, so I buy in bulk.”

Someone made space at the table for her and dished her up a bowl of stew and some bread. Autumn took a mouthful, barely taking the time to chew properly before she swallowed. The meal warmed her stomach, immediately making her feel stronger.

“This is amazing, thank you.” And she meant it. It was the first hot, home-cooked meal she’d had in forever, and she didn’t think she’d tasted anything so good. “It almost gives your cooking a run for your money,” she said, waving a piece of bread at Mia, giving her a wink.

“Oh, Mia, helped, didn’t you honey?” the older woman said. “That girl knows her way around a kitchen.”

Mia grinned and lifted her eyebrows, as if to say, ‘told you so.’

“We’ll stay here for the night,” said Autumn. “As long as that’s all right with you, Wenona.”

“Of course. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

Tomorrow would be the big day. She already felt like they’d left it too long, abandoning both the shifters and citizens of Chicago to military rule. She had no idea how things would go, but at least her people would be well rested and with a decent meal in their stomachs.

Autumn finished up eating, and rinsed off her bowl before refilling it for Blake. Most of the food was gone now, and she felt bad for not taking Blake’s portion to him before eating herself. She excused herself and went back to the room. Would he tell her to go away again, or perhaps take the bowl and throw it against the wall?

With her heart thumping, she paused outside of the door, her fingertips touching the wood. She could sense Blake’s presence beyond the door. She wished she could go back to when they’d first met, how the fire of attraction had burned so brightly between them. She still experienced that attraction, as much as ever, but she was frightened Blake no longer felt that way about her. Of course, he had far more important things to think about, but she wanted him to open up to her, to take comfort in her presence. She desperately wanted to make him understand she was still here for him, and they would work it out, even if he didn’t walk again.

She pushed down the rising fear of the enormity of what that promise to him meant. It would be a new role in life, yet again, this time as the girlfriend of a man who may never walk. She wondered what it would mean for their sex life. Would they even have one? Was it even working down there? From what he’d said, she thought perhaps it wasn’t—another blow to a man like Blake. It was as if the paralysis was taking his masculinity from him.

But it didn’t matter. There were other ways to pleasure a woman. And she would learn what she could do to pleasure him. She would make it work.

With her convictions solidified in her chest, she exhaled a deep breath and opened the door.

Though he lay on his side, facing away from her, his deep voice came from the bed. “How long were you planning on standing out there for?”

She glanced back at the door, as if she would find a camera or something to show who she was. Then she remembered his wolf guide. “I thought you weren’t in touch with your wolf anymore.”

“I still get glimpses. It must have been curious to see what you wanted.”

She risked a smile. Though he couldn’t see her, he might hear it in her voice. “Maybe it likes me.”

“Maybe.”

She was glad wolves couldn’t read minds as well.

“I brought you some food.”

“I told you I didn’t want any.”

She didn’t want to have the same argument with him again. Instead, she set the bowl down on the dresser beside the bed.

He’d taken off his shirt, so he lay covered only to the waist with Wenona’s starched white sheets. His back was so beautiful. The tattoos over his nut-brown skin. The bulk of his muscle. The slight curl of his hair into the dip at the base of his neck. She felt a surge of desire rise within her. It gave her courage and she crossed the room, and sat on the edge of his bed.

She reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Don’t shut me out, Blake.”

He turned to her. “I don’t want your life to be ruined, too.”

“The only way my life would be ruined is if you weren’t in it. I love you. I know you love me, too, even if you’re doing your best to tell yourself right now that you don’t.”

His voice came quietly. “I never said I don’t love you. The reason I want you to stay away from me is
because
I love you. I can’t stand the idea of your life being restricted in any single way because you’re being forced to live it with me.”

Her heart lifted at his words. He did love her. That was all that mattered. They would figure a way around this. She only wanted to be with him.