Autumn's War (The Spirit Shifters Book 4) (2 page)

BOOK: Autumn's War (The Spirit Shifters Book 4)
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I’ve lost everything else,
she thought.
Blake’s dead, my career is over, my father could be anywhere. Why not lose my best friend as well?
Self-pity swelled over her and she took a deep, shaky breath. She didn’t have time for tears of self-pity. She had a job to do.

She approached Lakota. “If we’re going to create more spirit shifters before we reach the city, we’re going to need somewhere safe for us to try to change people.”

He nodded. “I know somewhere about an hour south from here.”

“And you’re sure you know how to do this? I don’t want others to end up like—”

She realized what she was about to say and clamped her mouth shut.

Lakota finished her sentence. “Like Tala, you mean?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

The old man rubbed his face with one hand and shook his head. “I can’t begin to describe to you how much it hurts to know that not only is Blake gone, but Tala is going through such pain and fear. I know she did it to herself, and that she hurt you, but she’s still my little girl. Every moment I spend knowing she is hurting, another part of my soul dies with her.”

Nothing she could say would do anything to heal him.

Lakota continued. “I promise you, I would never do anything to put another person in the sort of pain Tala must be in. If any part of my mind had even the faintest flicker of uncertainty, I wouldn’t go through with it.”

That was good enough for Autumn. “Okay, thank you. And I really am sorry about Tala.”

“I know you are.”

She cast her eyes over the multitude of people. “But who would go first?”

A familiar voice spoke from the right. “I would.”

Autumn turned to find Mia standing there. Autumn’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. “No chance.”

Mia put her hands on her hips, a defiant glint to her dark eyes. “Why the hell not?”

“Well ...” She fought to think of something. “You’re not Native American, for one.”

“So? Peter doesn’t have Native American ancestry, but he’s still a shifter. There are plenty of spirit shifters who are as white as both of us.”

Autumn looked pleadingly toward Lakota, hoping he would come up with a reason not to use Mia, but he gave an apologetic shrug.

“What about Peter?” she tried again. “Don’t you think you should discuss this with him first? I can pretty much guarantee he’s not going to like it.”

“Autumn, honey. Since when has either of us given a crap about what a man’s opinion is?” She glanced to Lakota and then added, “Sorry.”

Lakota appeared to be suppressing a smile at the comment.

“I know, but this is different. This is literally life changing. And you and Peter seem so good together. Don’t you think he would want to be involved in this sort of decision?”

“Peter’s a shifter. What could he possibly say that could make me change my mind? I want to be like him, Autumn. I want to see the world in a different way. I want to be special.” She paused and then said, “Like you.”

Autumn stepped toward Mia and wrapped her arms around her, squeezing her tight in a hug. “Oh, Mia. You are special. You’re the most special woman I know. Can’t you see that’s the exact reason why I don’t want to change you? You’re perfect just as you are.”

Lakota cleared his throat, and Autumn released her friend. Mia swiped away a tear and gave a sniff.

“Perhaps it would be best if one of my people were to be changed first,” Lakota said. “The color of your skin has nothing to do with how well a spirit will connect with you, but my people have been aware of the existence of spirit shifters their whole lives. It feels only right they should have the first chance.”

Mia’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh, of course. I’m sorry, it wasn’t my place.”

“It doesn’t matter. I completely understand your desire.”

Autumn shot him a thankful glance.

Mia gave a regretful smile. “You’re not a shifter yourself, Lakota?”

He shook his head. “Sadly, no. The gift was never mine, though I watched Blake and Chogan grow up being able to shift from a very young age.”

Autumn shook her head in amazement. “I can’t imagine raising a child with such a gift. It must have been hard on you.”

He shrugged. “When they were very young, no more than toddlers, really, it was horrific to watch them go through such pain when the shifts first started. I already knew what they were by the way they were able to see things a distance from them, or the way they played with imaginary friends who just happened to take the form of wolves. Still, nothing prepared me for that first scream of pain from Blake when he was only four years old. Hearing his bones breaking was the most horrific thing I’ve ever heard, even to this day. He didn’t complete a full shift that first time, of course. It was just a couple of bones, which changed and then re-healed. But each time he shifted, the change became more and more complete. Blake’s mother was like you …”

Autumn frowned, not understanding.

“She was white, and came to live on the reservation. She didn’t believe at first, didn’t
want
to believe, but after a while, she had no choice. You can’t deny what’s right in front of your face.”

“What happened to her?”

“She died, when Blake was young.”

“I know, Blake told me. But how did she die?”

“Cancer. The diagnosis came too late, and within two months, she was dead. Blake and Tala were never the same.”

She couldn’t help herself. Without thinking, she reached out and gave the old man a hug. “I’m sorry you’ve lost so many people you’ve loved.”

“You’ve lost people you loved too, no?”

She nodded, thinking of her own mother and of Blake. “Yes, I have.”

“There is no life without pain.”

“No, I guess there isn’t.” She gave a sad smile and then wrenched herself out of the melancholy settling upon her shoulders. “Let’s get everyone moving. We have a lot of work to do before we reach Chicago.”

Chapter Three

 

 

CHOGAN HATED BEING separated from Autumn again.

The last time they’d made the decision to divide into groups, people died. But what other choice did he have? He had to go back and bring Blake’s body, if not home, than back to Lakota. As for Tala, he didn’t think for one minute that she’d still be where he’d left her, but at least he would have shown his uncle that he wasn’t a coward and he still cared.

The motorbike roared beneath him, his hair streaming back from his face. Peter rode by his side. They were sticking to the roads for the time being, but as soon as they got closer to the location—though this wouldn’t be for hours yet—they would go off road and head deeper into the forest, some of them using the bikes as transport, others using their animal spirit guides.

Chogan’s wolf ran alongside the bike, the huge animal running at a gallop, with long, lolloping bounds. Its russet fur rippled in the wind, its tongue hanging from its mouth. Chogan wouldn’t have been surprised if the expression on its shaggy face was a grin. His wolf was always at its happiest when on the chase.

The speed of the car following them frustrated Chogan. He wished they’d all been able to travel by their spirit guides, or even by motorbike, but using his spirit guide had been the reason he’d needed to leave Tala behind, and failed Blake. He didn’t hold much hope for finding Tala. The soldiers wouldn’t have left her alone, so she would either have been taken back to the same place Autumn had been kept, or else they’d have killed her. His heart clenched with pain. There hadn’t been much love lost between him and Tala since she’d hurt Autumn, but he’d grown up with his cousin. He’d treated her more like a sister after Blake left, and it broke his heart to think she was either dead or being treated like some freak experiment. He also worried that if they ever did meet again, she would probably hate him. She would look at him with blame in her eyes because he had chosen Blake over her. His choice was even worse now Blake hadn’t survived. He was to blame for abandoning them both to save his own skin.

So far, the freeway had been quiet. No one, apart from them, was crazy enough to head toward Chicago while all the fighting was going on. Even those in the surrounding towns were staying at home, keeping their families safe from whatever their perceived threat was—the army and government for those linked to shifters, and the monsters they believed to be in their midst for the regular humans. There were more vehicles heading north, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the troubles, but Chogan doubted it would be long before the panic and paranoia spread to other big cities.

Chogan frowned.

Something was in the road ahead.

A couple of vehicles were skewed across the lanes of the freeway. Smoke rose from the hood of the truck, and the back wheel of a motorbike protruded from beneath the car. Someone stood in the middle of the freeway, waving madly.

Were they crazy? He knew the road was quiet, but they would get themselves mowed down if they weren’t careful.

He turned his head quickly to see if Peter had noticed them as well. The other man nodded, as much as he was able to given the speed and wind, and began to slow. They had problems of their own, but they couldn’t leave people possibly hurt in the middle of the road. Plus, they’d have to drive by them to get to where they wanted to go.

As they grew closer, he was able to get a better look at the person waving them down. It was a young woman in her mid-twenties, her brown hair caught up in a high ponytail, long legs encased in skinny jeans. She wore heeled boots, and a tight red leather jacket which did nothing to hide her curves. Her eyes caught his attention the most, wide with fear, but a bright shade of emerald green.

Chogan brought his bike to a skidding halt.

“Oh, thank God,” she cried as she rushed over to Chogan.

Peter pulled up the bike beside him, and the car containing the others slowed and stopped behind them. Sahale and Nadie stayed in the car, but craned their necks forward, trying to get a look at what had happened.

“Please tell me you’re human,” she begged. “Not one of those freaking monsters!”

Chogan didn’t answer her question. “What happened here?”

“Two great big wolves darted out in front of us! I swerved to avoid them, and didn’t see the bike. Then the other car hit us on the side.”

He noticed she had blood in her hairline, and held her elbow with one hand as if for support. “Are you hurt?”

“I banged my head and wrenched my shoulder. My little boy is in the car. He hit his head, too, and I think the driver of the bike is dead.”

“Is your boy all right?”

She nodded. “Yes. But I wouldn’t let him get out of the car ’cause I didn’t want him to see the guy who was driving the bike. He’s only four.”

“What about the driver of the truck?”

She started walking back to the car as she spoke, turning to look back over her shoulder to make sure they were following. “He’s breathing, but he’s unconscious.”

Chogan exchanged a glance with Peter and they both started after her.

Chogan rounded the side of the car. A man’s body lay at an unnatural angle on the road. He could tell from the smell of him—the flat scent of death—that he had already passed. Glancing up, he caught sight of the woman stood with her hand at her mouth, anxiously nibbling her nails. He recognized the question in her eyes—
is he alive?—
and shook his head. Her hand spread out to cover her mouth, and her shoulders lifted as she stifled a sob.

Leaving the body where it was, he headed to the truck next. A middle aged, overweight man sat slumped across the steering wheel. Chogan’s nostrils flared. The scent of blood hit him like a wave. The man was badly hurt, but was breathing in a slow, steady breath, giving a gentle snore with every inhale.

Chogan tried to open the truck door, but it didn’t budge. He used some of his extra strength as surreptitiously as he could, and wrenched the jammed metal. A squeal of metal bending, and the door yanked almost off its hinges. The man didn’t stir at the intrusion. Chogan leaned in and carefully lifted the man’s forehead from the steering wheel.

“Careful,” called Peter. “He might have a neck injury.”

“Do you want to do this?” Chogan snapped back.

The driver’s skin was cold and clammy. Blood trickled down his forehead from a large gash, and from his nose and the corner of his mouth. The vehicle was too old to have an air bag installed. If he’d had one, he’d have been in a hell of a better state right now.

Chogan carefully placed the man’s forehead back on the steering wheel and straightened. “I think he’ll live, but we can’t leave him here.” He turned to the woman. “I assume you’ve called nine-one-one.”

The worried expression didn’t leave her face. “I tried, but it’s just a recorded message.” She pulled a cell phone from her pocket. “Here, you try.”

He took the phone and punched in the numbers. He waited for a moment and the recorded message started in his ear. “We are currently experiencing a higher than average number of calls. We advise everyone to stay in their homes. The army is patrolling all areas of known disturbances …” And then it started to repeat.

“Shit,” swore Chogan, hitting the ‘end’ button on the phone. How far out had this thing spread? The troubles had obviously gone beyond the city boundaries. Did this mean Minneapolis had already gone the same way as Chicago? He was sure there would be shifters living in the other cities. They were bound to respond as the mayhem spread. He wondered if they’d be able to pick up extra support as the main group headed toward Chicago
.
But they weren’t more than a few hours from the cabin they’d been kept in now, so he guessed it was to be expected that any of the surrounding area would be facing repercussions.

“What are we going to do?” the woman asked, her green eyes wide.
We? Since when had they become a ‘we?’
He wanted to tell her this wasn’t his problem, to wave to Peter and the others from the reservation, and be on their way. But the trickle of blood down her forehead made her appear ridiculously vulnerable, together with the fact she had a young child in the car.

Dammit.

“Where’s your boy? In the car, you say?”

“Yes. I told him to stay there. I didn’t want him to see any of this.”

“I understand, but you’re going to need to get him out of there now. Maybe you can get him to shut his eyes?”

She nodded and they approached the other vehicle. All their stuff appeared to be packed in the back. She caught Chogan looking at it. “We were moving.”

“Where’s the kid’s dad?”

Her lips thinned and her voice dropped a couple of notches. “That’s what we were moving from.”

She opened the back door of the car and dropped to a crouch. “Come on, honey. It’s time to go now. This nice man and his friends are going to help us.”

The boy didn’t budge.

She turned back to Chogan. “He won’t get out of the car. I’d pull him out, but with my shoulder hurt, I just don’t have the strength, plus I don’t want to frighten him any more than he already is. He’s scared of the accident, and the beasts we saw.”

“Are you sure they just weren’t regular wolves?”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Hey, I’m from Minnesota. I know a regular wolf when I see one. These two were like a couple of bears but in wolf form.”

It definitely sounded like they’d come across a couple of shifters. But why would shifters run across a freeway and cause an accident? Surely they’d only do so if they were being chased. Unless they were just out to cause trouble.

“Are you sure you didn’t see anyone else?”

“No, I told you. It was just the two monsters.”

“You might have missed something, especially if you were in shock right after the accident. Think harder.”

She frowned. “I told you I didn’t see anything else. Those creatures were out to cause the accident, I’m sure of it.” She squinted at him, starting to get suspicious. “Why all the questions?”

“I’m just trying to figure out events, that’s all. We need to know if there are other threats we should be worried about.”

This seemed to make her relax. “Please, just get my boy for me.”

Chogan looked into the back seat to find a solemn little boy peering out at him. The child was fair, where his mother was dark, but he regarded Chogan with the exact same emerald eyes.

“Hey,” said Chogan. “What’s your name?”

The boy pressed his lips together, his eyes wide.

“Are you not speaking to me?” Chogan said, risking a smile.

“Mommy says not to talk to strangers.”

“And she’s absolutely right. But your mom is right here, and she says it’s okay this time, right?” He turned back to the woman, and realized he didn’t know her name either.

“Your mom is going to tell me her name first, aren’t you?”

The woman smiled. “Of course. I’m Madison.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you, Madison. My name is Chogan.”

She smiled and her face lit up. “It’s good to meet you, Chogan.”

Chogan turned back to the boy. “See now, we can find out your name and get you out of there.”

He looked to his mother for reassurance, and she nodded. “My name’s Billy.”

“Hey, Billy. You see my friends over there? They’re going to help you and your mom, okay?” The boy looked past his shoulder to where Peter and the others waited beside the car.

“Close your eyes, honey,” Madison said. “And keep them shut until I say so.”

Obediently, Billy squeezed his eyes shut, and Chogan reached in and lifted the boy from the back seat. Automatically, the boy’s arms wound around his neck, and he held the small body close as he carried him to deposit him in the back seat of Sahale’s Honda. He sensed the questions in the eyes of his companions, but what else could he do?

“Thank you so much for your help,” Madison said, her voice thickening with tears. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come along when you did. I can’t get the image of that poor man hitting the car out of my head, the way his body just catapulted off the bike and onto my windshield. Every time I close my eyes, there he is again. I caught the expression in his eyes—shock and disbelief, right before his body hit the windshield. And then he bounced, bumped across the top of the hood before he hit the road. And then—” She paused, trying to get a hold of herself. “And then I felt the wheels hit him. I couldn’t stop quickly enough.”

She threw herself against Chogan’s chest, crying gently. He lifted his hands in the air for a moment, not used to having crying women attach themselves to him, and then cautiously lowered his hands and gently patted her on the back.

What the hell was he going to do with them now? He had the middle aged truck driver, who still hadn’t regained consciousness, and a mother and boy who were terrified of shifters. They would probably freak as soon as they realized their rescuers were exactly the same as the creatures they feared.

They couldn’t go back now. They had to keep going to the spot where he’d last seen Blake and Tala. But the new passengers filled the car. What was he supposed to do with Blake’s body, assuming they found it? He could hardly lay Blake across their knees.

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