Return to Kadenburg (22 page)

“Please don’t tell her!” Natalie sobbed. “Please,
Arnold…..don’t tell her about that night. I couldn’t bear it.”

“I think she has a right to know,” Arnold glared down
at her. “
You
betrayed us, Natalie. It wasn’t the other way around.
You went off with that bastard. You kept Presley drugged along with Dimitri
and Lorcan. Greg is dead because you failed to save him. Any true ursithrope
would’ve given their life to protect that kid. You disgust me.”

The tears fell harder as her chest throbbed. She was
going to have a heart attack-she just knew it. She couldn’t take this.

“I told you things are going to change around here,” He
growled, crouching in front of her. “Presley’s bringing a cub into this world
and I don’t want the likes of you around it. Do you understand me? I want you
gone. I want you out of our lives for good. Leave Kadenburg and don’t ever
think about coming back.”

Natalie opened her mouth to say something, anything,
but only an inaudible whine escaped her as the hopes and dreams of being in her
niece’s life shattered before her very eyes. Arnold wasn’t going to allow
that, just like he’d ripped her dreams away of becoming his wife one day. How
had she ever loved him?

“Go,” He growled, standing up and staring down at her.
“…..before I decide to kill you myself.”

––––––––

Again, Mrs. Bamey found herself surrounded by chaos as
she heard the devastating wails sounding from down the hallway. She
immediately exited her bedroom, leaving her husband snoring softly in bed as
her wide eyes searched for the source of the crying. It didn’t take her long
to find Natalie in the bathroom, clinging to the sink as her salty tears
splashed against the countertop like angry raindrops.

“My heavens, what’s wrong?” Mrs. Bamey asked in a loud
whisper, quickly shutting the door behind herself. “Natalie, what’s happened?”

The distraught brunette lifted her bloodshot gaze to
Mrs. Bamey, sniffling as she wiped at her cheeks.

“I-I have to go,” She struggled to say between her
sobs. “I can’t stay h-here.”

“Why not?” Mrs. Bamey frowned, placing her hands on
her hips. “You just got back, Natty. You can’t leave! Presley will be so
heartbroken….”

“That’s why I have to go,” She sniveled, reaching for a
tissue. “I’m so toxic, Charlotte. I’ll only taint her. I can’t stay here. I
can’t be around that baby when it’s born. Arnold is right.”

“Arnold?” Mrs. Bamey echoed. “What does Arnold have to
do with this? What did he say to you?”

Natalie shook her head quickly. “No, please. It’s
okay. He was right. He’s always been right. I was so stupid for coming back
here, Charlotte. I should’ve just left. I’m not worthy to be in her life. I
don’t deserve to be here.”

“The
hell
you don’t!” Mrs. Bamey gasped. “Don’t
you dare say such things, Natalie Carroll. I don’t care what you’ve done in
the past. She is your niece just as much as his and she
wants
you to be
here. Don’t you see that?”

Natalie’s lower lip quivered as her shoulders slumped
and she bowed her head. “I have done horrible things,” She whispered.
“Horribly terrible, unspeakable things, Charlotte, and I don’t deserve the
kindness you’ve shown me.”

“You are an ursithrope,” Mrs. Bamey replied, resting
her hands against Natalie’s shoulders. “We were best friends when we were
younger. I don’t care what you have done. You are one of us and we never turn
our backs on one another.”

Natalie peered up at her, blinking back fresh tears.
“But I turned my back on you so long ago….I don’t understand how you can even
consider forgiving me.”

Mrs. Bamey frowned as tears glistened in her eyes.
“Oh, Natty. Friends forgive one another and I forgave you a long time ago. I
know the toll Arnold’s rejection took on you back then…..and no, I don’t know
why you’ve done some of the things you’ve done, but I have always had hope that
you would come back to us in the end. All I ever wanted was for you and
Caroline to find a way back to Kadenburg so we could start the healing
process.”

“Caroline,” Natalie whispered, a pained expression
taking over her face as she eased down onto the side of the tub. “Poor
Caroline.”

Mrs. Bamey bit her lip, hugging her arms around
herself as she studied the other female. “You know what happened to her, don’t
you?”

Slowly nodding her head, Natalie lifted her pale eyes
to gaze at Charlotte as a shaky breath escaped her trembling lips.

“It’s quite complicated,” She murmured.

“As is most of life,” Mrs. Bamey responded
thoughtfully. “Are you going to tell me or will you leave me guessing?”

Natalie opened her mouth to reply, but the sound of
wheels hitting the gravel outside at a fast speed had both of them heading for
the front door.

“Someone is in quite the hurry,” Mrs. Bamey said softly
as she pulled open the door and peered outside. It was her husband’s truck
returning, and she knew that Davey Berdine was driving it. The poor elder’s
vehicle was out of commission until they could get it towed from the woods, and
Richard was kind enough to let him use their old clunker for the time being.
However, why he was returning from a trip to town in such a rush had her
worried.

“Do you smell that?” Natalie asked as she rested her
cheek against the doorframe. A cool breeze swept past her nose and her pulse
quickened.

“Yes,” Mrs. Bamey’s eyebrows furrowed. “What is that smell,
Natalie?”

Natalie did know that scent. She recognized it as a
terrible combination that had been created by a mad scientist. It was an
abomination that hadn’t ended well in the past. It caused ice to form in her
heated veins as her nails clawed at the floral wallpaper near the doorframe.
She sucked in a sharp breath and her worries of leaving Kadenburg were soon
forgotten.

“We have a very serious problem, Charlotte. You need
to wake up Richard.”

–––––––-

Dimitri emerged from the bedroom as soon as the scent
hit his nostrils. At first he thought it was a dream within a dream, forever
lost in the depths of his mind. Sometimes he could remember scents from the
past, like his mother’s perfume; but this was a smell he didn’t welcome and it
clutched at his heart.

His lungs ached from the familiarity. The hairs on his
arms stood on end as he pulled open the bedroom door and stalked into the
hallway, rushing past a very sleepy eyed Presley.

“What’s going on?” She asked softly, yawning.

“It’s not good,” Dimitri promised as he glanced at
her. “Stay in there for a bit, okay?”

“…Okay,” Presley replied hesitantly, frowning.

“Just…let me figure it out first. Please?” He stopped
briefly, turning to face her. His instincts were rarely wrong, and something
told him that what was about to enter the Bamey house would change the way
everything would play out. For better or worse, he couldn’t be too sure…but he
didn’t want it around Presley. She was going to have a baby and he’d made a
promise to himself he’d protect that unborn child. Why? He didn’t really have
an answer yet. It just felt like the right thing to do.

After staring at him for a few seconds, Presley finally
complied. She shut the bedroom door and he could hear Lorcan’s muffled murmurs
of confusion. They could talk about it amongst themselves-that was for the
best right now. As long as Presley remained distracted and out of harm’s way,
Dimitri would be able to focus on the new problem being carried in by Richard
Bamey and Arnold Goult.

As soon as his bare feet hit the flooring of the living
room, Dimitri was overwhelmed by feelings he hadn’t experienced in many, many
years. Fear, panic, and desperation locked like a vice around his lungs as he
reached out to catch himself against the wall. Something wasn’t right.

The ruckus of Mr. Bamey and Presley’s uncle arguing
back and forth barely registered in his mind as he heard Mrs. Bamey’s voice
echoing in a far off distance.

“Dimitri? Dimitri! What’s wrong?”

Gasping for each breath of air he desperately needed in
his lungs, the werewolf forced his eyes to open so he could meet her worried
gaze.

“What’s….going on?” He asked between each pant.

“Louisa and Davey found Gregory on their way back from
town. He’s alive!” She gasped. “But what’s wrong with you? You don’t look so
well.”

“I don’t feel so well,” He growled, shaking his head a
little too quickly. His stomach twisted into sickening knots as he shut his
eyes once more, willing the urge to vomit to disappear.

“Come sit down,” She demanded in a firm tone. She led
him towards the recliner since the couch was now occupied, and pushed him into
it. “There. Now tell me what’s happening.”

“I think…” He started slowly, sucking in another
lungful of air. “I think I’m having a panic attack.”

“A what?!” Mrs. Bamey squeaked. “Oh, Dimitri, how is
that possible?” She rested the back of her hand against his forehead. “You’re
absolutely freezing. What’s brought this on?”

Dimitri lifted his eyes to meet hers, resting a hand
against his chest. It felt like his heart was working into overtime and there
wasn’t enough oxygen in the world to please his body. He licked his lips,
allowing his gaze to roam towards the young ursithrope being tended to on the
couch.

“Him,” He whispered hoarsely.

Mrs. Bamey followed his gaze, frowning as she stared at
Gregory Kress’ unconscious form. She blinked, slowly looking back at Dimitri
with that same worried-mama-bear expression she gave every young person she
cared about.

“He’s causing you to have a panic attack?” She asked
softly. “Why?”

“I know you can smell it, too,” Dimitri swallowed
hard. “You females are more in-tune with your senses, right?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Bamey nodded. “I do smell it, Dimitri.
What is it?”

He allowed his head to fall back against the soft
cushion of the recliner, falling victim to the stench of pipe tobacco as it
slowly travelled through his sinuses. He closed his eyes and attempted to pace
his sporadic breathing.

“What is it?” Mrs. Bamey repeated, her fingers gripping
his ever so gently.

“He did it,” Dimitri responded after a few seconds.
“He finally did it.”

“He did it? Who did what?” The older female asked in a
trembling voice.

Dimitri’s eyes connected with hers as his face paled
significantly. It wasn’t something he ever wanted to think about; ever again.
In fact, he was so determined to forget it that he’d created an impenetrable
wall around that memory, tossed into the darkest, most secret part of his
brain. Just thinking about it now made him want to curl into the fetal
position and sob. It wasn’t easy to remember it. It was damn hard to release
the suppressed memories his conscience had tried to protect him from so long.
But he remembered now; oh, how he could remember it so clearly.

He traced his tongue over his lower lip, his eyes
emitting a soft glow.

“Breslin finally recreated his monster.”

Twenty Five

S
tretching her legs out upon the mattress,
Presley huffed. She crossed her arms over her chest and then glanced at
Lorcan. He was gazing at her affectionately, obviously still trying to wake up
from the deep sleep they’d both been enjoying only moments before.

It was actually more exhausting to break the news of
her pregnancy than she’d originally anticipated. Everyone was happy for her
and she’d received more hugs than she knew what to do with; but her mind was
shutting down on her against her will, and calling it an early night had been
the only option she deemed plausible at that time.

Uncle Arnold seemed happy enough about the news of
becoming a great-uncle, but Presley
knew
he was hiding something else
from her. When he had that
look
in his eyes, she knew something was
wrong. He was keeping his emotions in check, and although she couldn’t pick up
on the disappointment and agitation he had locked inside of him, she was nearly
one hundred percent sure he wasn’t completely elated about her coupling with
Lorcan. Or maybe he was still upset about her aunt Natalie reappearing. Or
maybe he was just annoyed with the lycanthrope issue. Who could really know?

“You’ve got so much on your mind right now,” Lorcan
observed in a thoughtful tone. “Picking your thoughts is terrifying.”

“Then don’t pick them,” Presley frowned, her eyes
meeting his briefly before she looked away. “I just have a lot to think
about.”

“And that’s good for the baby, how?”

“It’s not,” She sighed, burying her face into her
hands. She shook her head slowly, attempting to gather herself as the stench
wafting out of the living room crept up on her again. “Ugh. Can’t we do
something about that smell?”

“Well, I could,” Lorcan shrugged. “But you said that
Dimitri told us to stay in here and Heaven forbid I go against what he says,
right?”

“You didn’t see the look in his eyes,” Presley argued,
lowering her hands to stare at him. “He was terrified, Orc. I could see it
all over his face.”

“And that’s just all the more reason as to why I should
be in there, helping with whatever is happening. You can’t defeat my logic on
that one.”

“I’m not trying to defeat your logic,” She frowned,
rubbing at her eyes. “I just want you to stay in here with me so I don’t go
insane. I feel too much right now.”

Lorcan’s arms immediately enveloped her, pulling her
against his chest as he brushed his lips over her forehead.

“I know, Darlin’,” He whispered. “I can’t imagine that
it’s easy possessing a gift like that.”

“I’m beginning to wonder if it’s a gift or a curse,”
She muttered, pouting a little as her brows furrowed. “Dimitri is freaking out
and your mom is worried about him.”

“My mom is worried about everyone,” Lorcan scoffed. “Tell
me something I don’t know.”

“Well,” She tilted her head back to peer up at him.
“My aunt is really sad and Uncle Arnold is still blocking me out. I don’t know
how he’s able to do that.”

“Some of us have better control than others,” Lorcan’s
eyes met hers and he offered her a warm smile. “Besides, he’s a pretty private
guy. Whatever he’s trying to work though right now, just give him time,
Pretz. He’ll open up to you when he’s ready.”

“I need him to open up now,” She huffed. “What if he
totally hates me because I’m pregnant?”

Lorcan’s fingers gripped her jaw tenderly. He forced
her to meet his gaze as he frowned.

“Don’t you ever think something like that again, do you
understand?” His stern tone immediately softened once he saw the look of
bewilderment on her face. “I’m sorry. It just really grinds my gears that you
would think that at all. He loves you, Presley. He’s the father you never had
a chance to have growing up. He could never hate you over something like that.”

Presley sucked in a soft breath, feeling as Lorcan’s
heated hand pressed against her stomach. Her eyes darted back and forth
between his as that familiar fire ignited in her chest.

“He will love this baby just as much as he loves you,”
He smiled. “Just as much as I do.”

Oh, how he is capable of making me melt when all I
want to do is hide away from the world?
Presley wondered, her eyes falling
closed as Lorcan’s lips found hers. She kissed him slowly, allowing herself a
brief second of peace. It was truly incredible how he could make the world
disappear in the most chaotic of times.

“Don’t you ever worry about anyone hating you over our
cub,” Lorcan murmured against her bottom lip. “That’s not possible.”

But it was possible, and Presley would find that out
the hard way soon enough.

–––––––-

Once again, Louisa found herself being thrust into the
excitement of an ursithrope’s daily life in Kadenburg, Tennessee. Happening
upon Gregory Kress had definitely been a stroke of luck, right? She had no
idea how long the poor boy had been in the woods, or just how serious his
injuries were until they made it into the warmth of the house and Beau began to
assess the damage.

“I need some washcloths, Louisa.
Now,
” He
instructed. She was surprised that his tone seemed so much kinder than what
she remembered, and she immediately obliged.

Rushing into the bathroom, she retrieved a handful of small
towels and ran them under the faucet. They were dripping everywhere as she
hurried back into the living room, kneeling by her cousin’s side before
thrusting them towards him.

“Thank you,” Beau murmured. He pressed one sopping
rag against the boy’s forehead and another at the base of his neck. His brows
were furrowed together in concentration as he tugged Gregory’s shirt upwards.

Everyone in the room released various sounds of
sympathy as three angry gunshot wounds came into view. The first was on
Gregory’s stomach, with two more just beneath the left side of his ribs. They
were trying to heal on their own with no success.

“I’d say Sheriff Holter is a bit trigger happy,” Beau
muttered. “Who thought it was a good idea to give that man a gun?”

“Why did he shoot him?” Davey Berdine asked with a
frown. The older male scratched at his temple as he studied the scene playing
out before him. “And how can we even be sure it was him?”

“Well that’s easy enough to answer,” Beau replied, sinking
his forefinger and thumb into one of the wounds and pulling a silver bullet
out. He lifted it into the air for everyone to see. “Does this look
familiar?”

“Son of a bitch,” Mr. Bamey growled angrily. “What
right does he have to be shooting at a damn ursithrope? Greg isn’t a mutt,” He
glanced in Dimitri’s direction. “No offense.”

Dimitri lifted his head, shrugging his shoulders
weakly. “None taken.”

“On the contrary,” Beau shook his head as he leaned
forward, using the hand that wasn’t drenched in blood to pry Greg’s mouth
open. “Take a good look, Mr. Bamey. Notice anything….different?”

Mr. Bamey leaned forward for a better look, and Louisa
found herself doing the same. Her eyes widened in surprise as a gasp escaped
from between her lips. Greg possessed terrifyingly sharp fangs. Two rows of
jagged, meat-ripping wolf teeth glistened in the dim lighting of the living
room.

“That ain’t possible,” Kyle Frey whispered.

“Oh, it is,” Beau nodded, turning his attention back
to the small group of onlookers as he pulled his hand away from Greg’s mouth. “I
have seen it before.”

“No,” Mr. Bamey shook his head quickly as he crossed
his arms over his chest. “That’s not right. That cannot be done. You can’t
mix an ursithrope with a lycan. That goes against the very basis of nature,
Son. There’s got to be another explanation.”

“Mr. Bamey,” Beau stood from the floor, wiping his
hands off on a towel as his gaze met the older ursithrope’s. “I’m not sure if
you’ve been paying attention for the last few moments, but it would seem as
though our young ‘mutt’ friend over there has been fighting with some
post-traumatic stress disorder. I think he is also familiar with this
particular situation.”

“How the hell do you know that?” Davey Berdine asked
with a lifted brow. “Are you a dang doctor or something?”

Beau blinked, tilting his head to the side.

“He took many years of medical training and he
graduated before….our lives changed,” Louisa explained. She glanced down at
Gregory and frowned. “Breslin Connor tried to do the same thing to my mate-to-be.”

“What happened to him?” Mrs. Bamey asked as she pulled
her attention away from Dimitri.

Louisa dropped her gaze to the floor as a more than
familiar sadness made itself known in her heart.

“He did not survive,” She whispered. “His body
couldn’t handle the change.”

“The change?” Mrs. Bamey hugged her arms around herself
as she glanced at her husband worriedly. “What does she mean, Richard?”

“She means that Breslin Connor likes to think of
himself as a mad scientist,” Beau explained as he knelt back down beside of
Greg, carefully removing the other two bullets as he spoke. “He was trying to
create a hybrid and he was looking for a young, abled body to use as a guinea
pig.”

“A hybrid?” Davey Berdine scoffed. “He is not a god.
He cannot create such a thing.”

“But he tried,” Beau corrected as he dressed the wounds
and leaned back on his haunches. “And Louisa’s future mate was not his first
attempt; neither was Greg.”

“This is too much,” Mrs. Bamey whimpered. “You mean
to tell me that Breslin Connor has been killing our able bodied males just to
see if he could create a half ursithrope, half lycanthrope science experiment?”

“He has done more than that,” Natalie Carroll said
after a moment. She had been so quiet that Louisa nearly forgot she was in the
room. It only became apparent then that the female was emitting three strong
emotions at once, and they were the same as Dimitri; fear, panic, and something
else…..

“What do you know?” Arnold Goult asked in a lower
voice. His tone suggested he was accusing her of something, and Louisa wasn’t
sure she liked that very much.

Natalie dropped her gaze to the floor, unwilling to
meet anyone’s eyes as she scratched at her wrist nervously.

“Natty?” Mrs. Bamey asked softly.

“Breslin has been trying to successfully recreate what
Greg is for years,” She finally responded. She sniffled and quickly lifted a
hand to wipe at her eyes. “He’s tried a variety of methods on multiple
subjects….”

“Natalie,” Arnold growled.

Natalie lifted her teary gaze, her eyes slowly moving
from one person to the other. The guilt was written all over her face. It
became the strongest emotion Louisa sensed in a room full of angry
bear-shifters.

“It started with breeding. He tried to mate with
female ursithropes in order to birth hybrids…and when that didn’t work…”

“
Who
?” Arnold asked through clenched teeth as he
glared at her. His anger was rising, and that emotion was fighting for
dominance over Natalie’s guilt. It made Louisa uneasy as she took a step
back. “Who were the females he tried to mate with?”

Although she was completely lost on the conversation,
Louisa wanted to know that answer as well. Her curiosity got the best of her as
she waited with baited breath.

“Don’t make me say,” Natalie pleaded meekly. “You
know what I am going to say and I do not want to say it.”

“Damn it, Natalie. You better tell me now or I swear
to Urseth…” Arnold’s voice broke then, and Louisa was surprised to see his
anger had dissolved into heartbreaking sadness. It made her stomach lurch in an
undesirable way. She felt sympathy for him; she felt sympathy for all of them.

“I was the second,” Natalie admitted as shame replaced
her guilt. “And Caroline was the third.”

It was Kyle Frey who asked the question burning in
everyone’s mind.

“Who was the first?”

Natalie’s eyes shifted towards the werewolf in the
recliner, and everyone’s mouths fell open from her next reply.

“Naomi Fridolf.”

It was so silent that Louisa could’ve heard a pin drop,
and undoubtedly would have had it not been for the sudden sound of screeching
brakes outside.

What is it
now
?!
Louisa wondered as she
heard the loud crash sounding only seconds later. She couldn’t will her legs
to move as Dimitri bolted up from the recliner and moved towards the door. Mr.
Bamey and Arnold Goult were hot on his heels while the young female was left to
stand there, feeling confused.

“What the hell was that?” Kyle Frey asked, the screen
door slamming shut behind him.

“Ain’t never a minute’s peace ‘round this place,” Davey
Berdine muttered. “Now I remember why I moved away.”

“What is going on?” Louisa asked, her eyes meeting her
cousin’s.

Beau glanced at her quizzically, shaking his head
slowly.