One True Mate 1: Shifter's Sacrifice (3 page)

Ella closed the box and sealed it with tape. Even if most of the jewelry was worth nothing, that pendant had to be worth a few dollars at least. She pushed the box towards the stairs, then tackled the rest of the attic, thankful to lose her thoughts in her work.

Trevor pushed his red Silverado work truck to its limit, not wanting to be late. Wade abhorred lateness, and since he was not only one of the deputy chiefs of their all-wolf-shifter police department, but also the
Citlali
for the entire region, he had a lot of authority. Plus Trevor respected the hell out of him.

Citlali
were the spiritual and judicial leaders of the
shiften
, given the position at birth because of their star-shaped renqua, a variably-shaped mark on their right shoulder that all proper
shiften
had.
Citlali
earned greater power with their first prophecy, and as far as Trevor knew, none had ever been fired or found wrong.

Trent, sitting on his haunches in the passenger seat with his nose out the window, and Troy, lying in the back, sprawled in a wolf’s curious resting pose, both whined at the same time. Trevor looked out his side window, knowing what he would see.

The green and white sign that read ‘Welcome to Serenity’ with the large stone statue of a bear marking it.

Trevor locked eyes with the bear as he always did, feeling the cool autumn air hit him in the face. He locked eyes with the wolf and the mountain lion on the other roads into Serenity when he passed their statues, too. He told himself it was the respect he paid to the guardians of the little town that had become his home, but in reality, the statues creeped him out, and his brothers, too.

He shushed them and put a comforting hand on Trent's flank. At one hundred and seventy-five pounds, Trent was the smaller of the two
wolfen
, and the more sensitive.

Trevor cranked his neck out the window and looked up, way up to the water tower behind the sign, seeing graffiti there. He frowned and craned his neck to read it.

They walk among us. Werewolves are real!

Trevor’s frown deepened. Someone was trying to spread rumors in Serenity? And where the hell had the
felen
who was supposed to be guarding the water tower been when that graffiti had been placed?

Fifteen minutes later, Trevor pulled into the police department parking lot and got out with the
wolves
— dogs, his mind corrected. He had to think of them as dogs when they were at the station. He couldn't afford to slip up and say wolf or even
wolfen
to a member of the public. The Czechoslovakian Wolfdog cover story could only hold the K9 unit for so long if some human heard a cop refer to them as actual wolves.

Trevor lifted his nose, sorting the different
wolven
scents out of the air. Mac's scent lingered, but was already starting to drift. He'd gone inside only a minute or two ago. Trevor walked faster, then started to jog to keep up with his brothers.

They strode in the back door and ran into Mac almost immediately, fully healed, and ready to continue their battle. Trevor met him head on, knowing he'd calm down eventually if Trevor let him get it all out.

“Finally.” Macalister Niles’ eyes were cold and his sneer showed his long canine teeth. “You know if you got laid every once in a while, you wouldn't need to hide out in the woods so often.”

Trevor kept his expression neutral, with effort. “Getting laid doesn't protect you from going
moonstruck
." He dropped a hand to Troy's head to try to quell the growl that was coalescing in his throat.

Mac snorted. “
Moonstruck
. Yeah, that's why you were out there.” He turned on his heel and strode away. Trevor heard him mutter, “Nice try,” under his breath.

Trevor and Troy watched Mac go, while Trent sat down on his haunches in the hallway, seemingly bored with the situation.
Let me bite his ass,
Trevor caught from Troy
. If I take a big enough hunk out of it, maybe we'll be able to see his personality.

Trevor nodded hi to a patrol officer passing them in the hallway, then rubbed the scruff growing on his chin and rolled his eyes heavenward. "We've already discussed this. Now both of you, head to the K9 center. See what's been going on overnight. I'll come get you when my meeting is over." He watched long enough to make sure they obeyed him, then jogged down the other hall after Mac, catching up to him just before he entered the deputy chief's office.

It was empty. Wade would be waiting for them in the underground meeting room. With a frown on his face.

Mac passed Wade's cluttered desk, the flag in the corner, the plaques on the wall, then brushed aside the poncho hanging on a hook on the wall and leaned his head forward to stare directly at what looked like a slight imperfection in the paint there.

Trevor tensed like he always did when someone used the retinal scanner, but he jogged inside to be right behind Mac, that way the door that would open in the wall wouldn't have a chance to close before he got through it, making him have to shove his eye right up close to the damn thing. He hated looking in it. It creeped him out in the same way the statues did.

Mac's eyes passed muster and the wall slid open, letting them into the dark staircase that would lead them to the underground tunnels and meeting and storage rooms. They descended, the door closing behind them. The passage was narrow, too dark for an ordinary pair of eyes, but not theirs. They went down the corridor and walked silently through the maze of tunnels, Trevor slightly behind Mac, neither speaking a word, finding the correct door by scent.

Mac turned the knob. The door opened up into a large room, at least the size of a high school gymnasium, their footfalls echoing strangely. Mac headed straight for the monster conference table that was easily as big as a back yard, but Trevor wound his way along the inner wall, unable to help staring at the masses of news stories tacked up there.
Shiften
were forbidden from recording their history any way other than orally, spoken from generation to generation, but that didn't stop them from collecting any human written history that pertained to the core purpose of the
shiften
race.

The humans wrote off the actions of the
shiften's
sworn enemy as accident, coincidence, terrorists, or just evil conduct of a select few, but the
shiften
knew differently.

Trevor's gaze ran over the headlines, even as he curled his fingers into his palms to avoid his impulse to touch anything. The cool air and lack of light in the tunnels preserved the newspapers and magazines, but still thousands of them were yellowing and cracking with age.

FIRE KILLS 12

FREAK EXPLOSION LEVELS CITY BLOCK, 20 MISSING, PRESUMED DEAD

EARTHQUAKE! SAN FRANCISCO IS OBLITERATED. 300,000 ARE HOMELESS

EVERY PERSON IN SMALL TOWN DISAPPEARS: SUPPER STILL ON TABLE IN MOST RESIDENCES

NEW, PLAGUE-LIKE DISEASE EMERGING

SARS EPIDEMIC FEARED

SWINE FLU PANDEMIC SPREADING

CHOLERA OUTBREAK SPREADS FEAR

EXPLOSIVES FOUND IN TOY, PROMPTING MASSIVE RECALL

BATTERY PLANT EXPLODES, ENTIRE CITY EVACUATED

COUNTRY'S WATER FOUND TO CONTAIN HIGH LEVELS OF WOLF'S BANE AND CUMIN. OFFICIALS STUMPED

WORLDWIDE WATER SUPPLY FOUND TAINTED WITH XYLITOL, CUMIN, AND WOLF’S BANE. MILLIONS OF PETS DIE

TERRORISTS BLAMED FOR EXPLOSION THAT BROUGHT DOWN CHICAGO SKYSCRAPER

POISONED CITY: FLINT WATER CRISIS GROWS DEADLY

TWO PLANES COLLIDE IN MIDAIR – WITNESSES REPORT BRIGHT FLASH IN THE SKY JUST BEFORE

Trevor let his eyes wander over the monstrous room. Every available surface was covered with these stories. He didn’t know who put them up. Whose vigil this was. He thought it was a fitting way to remember why they were all doing this job. The headlines in this room alone signified millions dead at the hand of their nemesis. All of whom would someday receive vengeance. He swore it. He would find a way to make it happen, no matter how much of a fraud he was. Determination and hard work could make up for personal failings.

The sight of the tragedies was enough to make his fists clench, enough to make a lump form in his throat even as his body became battle-ready.

Someone cleared their throat, drawing Trevor’s attention to the center of the room. He shook his muscles, rather in the manner that a dog shakes off water, trying to rid himself of the tension. There was nothing to fight there.

Deputy Chief Wade Lombard sat at the end of the conference table, his hands tucked under his chin as he perused some files, a police radio on near him with the volume low. He was, by appearances, a male close to sixty with silver hair, although Trevor knew he was much older. Bastard still had a mate, which would keep him young for a good two hundred years, unlike the rest of them. Trevor drew close to the table, but slowed before he got to it, sensing something off in Wade.

“Wade,” Mac drew close to the table and greeted him first. “I…”

Wade held up a hand. “Before either of you say anything, let me speak. You need to know we’ve got a transfer coming in from Scotland. He’ll be here tomorrow.”

“Scotland?” Trevor’s dark eyebrows furrowed. He knew nothing about
wolfen
in Scotland. Nothing about how they ran their enterprises. Nothing about their loyalties.

“He’s got some special abilities, and so he’ll be coming in to help the KSRT. You said you needed new bodies.”

“Wait, what? I’m the head of the KSRT. I should have been consulted about this.”

Wade raised his eyebrows and cocked his head. “It wasn’t my call.”

Trevor pulled back. No one told Wade what to do… except Rhen, not even the Chief of Police. If Rhen was involved, no amount of complaining would change anything. “What kind of abilities?”

“A way to track Khain. Maybe a way to reach him wherever he goes when he leaves our world.”

Trevor stalked to the table and leaned over it, a cold shiver at the thought passing through him. He had to at least let his objections be known. “How do we even know what he’s saying is true? Or that he’s not being controlled by—?”

“Yeah,” Mac said. “He could lead us straight into a trap.”

Trevor pointed at Mac, appreciating the support for once. He focused on Wade again. “Hell, no. All of us in the KSRT trust each other. We can’t bring in a stranger. Not now.” Trevor winced at the lie, but pressed on, daring Wade or Mac to call him on it.

Wade stayed calm. Unflappable. “Trevor, you need all the help you can get. We haven't seen any sort of progress in years.”

Trevor’s jaw clenched. “We are doing everything we can. If the
Citlali
are not satisfied, then they’re free to replace me. I never signed up for this anyway.”

The Deputy Chief sighed and steepled his fingers together. “I’m not trying to accuse you of anything, Trevor. In fact, I’m trying to help you. At the very least, you should meet him and see what he can do for you. Surely, there’s no harm in that.”

Trevor said nothing. Who was to say there was no harm in welcoming a stranger? Even if he was
Wolfen
, that didn't mean he was trustworthy enough to be on the task force working directly on Khain’s trail.

Wade fixed him with a hard stare. “Relax, Trevor.”

“I’ll relax when it's all over,” Trevor said.

Wade nodded. “I would expect nothing less from you, son.”

Trevor said nothing. Wade didn't know that Trevor didn’t believe what everyone else believed about him.

Wade sat back in his chair and shifted his gaze to Mac. “Good. Now that that’s settled, care to tell us why you called the meeting?”

Trevor narrowed his eyes at his second-in-command. “
You
requested this meeting?”

Mac nodded.

Trevor sighed and he rubbed his forehead. “Had I known, I would have taken that shower.”

“I'll be sure to tell you next time," Mac snarled, his expression reminding Trevor exactly how bad he smelled.

The Deputy Chief cleared his throat.

Mac's voice went all-business, and totally determined, like he already knew he would meet with opposition. He faced the Deputy Chief and spit it out. “The males need a rut... a real one. We have to make it happen for them or we're going to be in deep shit soon.”

Trevor's eyes shot to Mac. Out of all the things Mac could have said, that was the last thing Trevor would ever have imagined was going to come out of his mouth.

A rut. With no female shifters left, how would they ever manage that?

Ella climbed carefully down the attic stairs, finally done, checking the time.

7:09.

Mrs. White had told her to drop off the items before the store opened, which happened in less than an hour.

“Darn.”

She grabbed a jacket from the hallway closet and headed out, the heavy box full of what little she could find of value, including the angel/wolf pendant, in her arms.

She could have made the trip from her aunt’s house in the older but still-nice subdivision to downtown Serenity with her eyes closed, that’s how often she had walked it. She noticed as soon as she stepped off her front porch that the empty house three blocks to the right of her had a moving van in front of it. Someone was finally moving in. The real estate sign had come down months ago, but the house had stayed empty.

Ella had always loved that house. It was twice the size of hers, with a ton of history. The entire back of it was built with a lovely sandstone that always drew her eye, every time she passed. She’d often wondered at the history of the house, but never had the time to look into it. Until now. Now she had more time than she knew what to do with.

As Ella passed the truck, she kept her eyes on the ground, not wanting to deal with anyone.

A loud bang ricocheted off the inside of the truck and Ella looked up, startled. A refrigerator of a man appeared at the back of the truck, wiping his brow, sweating even in the crisp, late-autumn air.

The man saw her and raised a hand, his eyes traveling up and down her body in a way that made Ella shiver.