Avenging Autumn (19 page)

Chogan found the bag and dug out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, hurriedly pulling the pants up his legs and the shirt over his head. He turned to find Lakota standing in the doorway, his face a solemn mask.

“What is it, Uncle? What’s happened?”

“I’m glad you’re back, Chogan. We need your help.”

“And I need yours. Autumn has been arrested. I don’t know what for, or how to get her out again.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but Autumn is at least safe while she is incarcerated, your cousin is not.”

Chogan frowned, confused. “My cousin is in jail? You mean Tala? No, she got away, she was following me. She should be here any minute assuming she shifts back.”

“No, I didn’t mean Tala. I meant Blake.”

His confusion deepened. “Blake’s been arrested too?”

“Blake’s in a prison of his own making. I sent him into the spirit world to try to connect with his guide again.” For the first time, Lakota’s composure crumbled. “I knew not to.” He shook his head. “I felt so badly for him, I let it affect my judgment. I knew Blake wasn’t in any mental state to go back into the spirit world, but I let him go anyway.”

“What are you trying to tell me, Uncle?”

“Blake is lost there. I assume he can’t find his way back to his body, and so can’t find his way back here either. I warned him about this, but he was so desperate ...”

Chogan got moving, pushing past Lakota to head down the hallway to Blake’s room. He burst through the door. Wenona and Mia sat beside Blake, as though sitting around a dying man’s hospital bed.

Blake appeared to be sleeping, his face at rest, his chest rising and falling. Whatever he was going through in the spirit world, he showed no sign of it here.

From outside of the house came the crunch of footsteps on the gravel, quickly followed by the wooden porch creaking as weight was applied, and then the front door opening.

“The others are back,” said Chogan.

Sure enough, Tala appeared in the doorway. She must have left her clothes in a bundle in between the trees when she’d shifted, as she was redressed in the same clothes she’d left in. Her gaze cast to Blake, and then to everyone standing around. “What’s going on? What’s happened to my brother?”

Lakota quickly explained and her eyes widened. “I can do it!” she said. “I can go back for him. I owe him that much for what he did for me.”

“No, Tala, you can’t. I’ve already explained this to Mia. It needs to be someone who is a strong shifter, and you’ve only just been turned.”

A voice spoke from the doorway. “What about me?”

They turned to find Peter standing there. Mia rushed to him, throwing herself into his arms. Everyone looked away as they kissed.

“How are you feeling?” Peter asked Mia.

She nodded. “A little better.” Her eyes flicked over to Wenona and the older woman hid a smile behind her hand.

Chogan frowned. He wondered what that was about.

“Seriously, though,” said Peter. “I’ve been a shifter all my life, and I’m Blake’s best friend. If he needs help, I’m happy to do whatever needs to be done.”

Chogan shook his head. “No, I’m his cousin. I’m the one who is closest to him, even if he’d rather I wasn’t most of the time. It should be me.”

“What about Autumn?” Mia asked. “We can’t just forget about her.”

“We’re not. We’d never forget about her. But let’s get Blake safe first. Autumn wouldn’t want to come out of jail knowing we’d left Blake lost and alone.”

Mia nodded. “You’re right.”

The crunch of tires on the gravel came from outside. The truck containing Rhys, Daisy, and Marcus had finally shown up. He wondered what to do with Rhys now Autumn wasn’t around to run things. Would Daisy still have control over the big man, or would be he be trying to cause trouble?

“Thank God,” said Mia. She gave Peter another embrace, and then hurried out to meet her brother and the others.

“We need to act quickly,” said Lakota. “The longer he’s lost, the more difficult it will be to find him.”

Chogan hardened his jaw, his muscles tense. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

“I need help getting Blake’s body back to where I conducted the magic. You need to come too. The closer you are to him physically in this world, the easier it will be to bring him back.”

“Whatever you need.”

“Okay, help me get Blake out of this bed.”

Together, Chogan and Peter lifted Blake from the bed. Wenona hurried forward to position the wheelchair for them, but Chogan shook his head. “We’ll carry him.”

Lakota gathered some things, and then they made their way away from the property, and into the surrounding woodland. Lakota led the way, Chogan and Peter at a slower pace behind him due to Blake’s weight and size, while Wenona man-handled the wheelchair behind them.

Through the trees, Lakota finally halted. “We’re here. Put Blake right here,” he gestured to a spot on the ground.

Chogan could see where the foliage had been flattened by Blake’s weight, a couple of spots around the area singed and dripping with now hardened candle wax.

“Chogan,” Lakota continued. “If you can lie down beside him. You need to leave enough space for me to walk around you both, but for candles to be placed at each of your points.”

Trying to quell the flutter of nerves in his stomach, Chogan asked, “What am I to expect, Uncle?”

“Honestly, Chogan, I’m not entirely sure. I’m not a spirit shifter. I don’t have my own guide. I have the knowledge passed down to me from many generations that allows me to help others do so, but it’s not something I’ve experienced myself.”

He took a deep breath. “Okay, I trust you.”

“There is one very important rule, Chogan. One your cousin did not follow. You must not lose sight of your body. It’s disorienting over there, and if you lose your way, you’ll struggle to find your way back again.”

“I understand.”

Chogan got to the ground and lay back. His long hair spread across the ground like a blanket. He glanced over at Blake’s sleeping face. “I’m coming for you, Cuz. You’ve never been able to hide from me.”

Lakota moved around them both, arranging candles.

“You know I’ve never been good with any of this new age stuff, right, Uncle?” he jested, trying to keep his nerves at bay.

“Fire is as ancient as the start of mankind,” Lakota replied. “Now keep your mouth shut and concentrate.”

Chogan clenched and unclenched his fists and allowed the ground to take his weight. He felt where his body made contact with the earth the most—the pressure points—the back of his head, his heels, the base of his spine and the back of his hands. The soil was cool, a chill radiating up through the earth. Near his ear, a beetle scratched through the dirt, and he gave his head a slight shake, hoping to send it scuttling away.

He closed his eyes, but automatically his mind went to his wolf. The animal stood on the outskirts of the ring Lakota had created, watching with bright, curious eyes. It whined a little, but it was more an excited whine than a fearful one. It paced left, and then right, unsure what it was supposed to be doing.

Through his wolf’s eyes, Chogan watched Lakota light each of the candles, and throw a pinch of herbs of some kind into each of the flames. Multiple scents intermingled with the smoke—too many for him to distinguish. As Lakota moved around, he began to sing. The song jarred something deep inside of Chogan, an awakening he’d not experienced for a long time. He’d gotten so involved in everything to do with the western world, he’d forgotten where he came from and the ancient, spiritual life he’d grown up with. The sound of Lakota’s voice made him distance himself from his wolf momentarily, centering in on the emotions the song created inside of him. Nostalgic, peaceful, reflective.

The ground no longer felt so solid beneath his body.

Chogan opened his eyes. He stared up at the branches of the pine trees above him, but beyond the brittle leaves, the sky looked different. It was washed out, faded. And, though he could still hear his uncle’s song, it seemed distant.

With his heart in his throat, Chogan pushed himself to sitting, and then got to his feet. Alarmed to find himself now standing on his body, he lurched away, staggering, and turned to discover his body still lying on the ground.

“Holy shit.”

Something hit him from behind, sending him flying. He hit the ground and rolled, his arms raised to protect his face from the attack he was sure would follow. But instead of teeth and claws, a hot, wet tongue found his face. Breath snorted and panted, and a wet nose and furry muzzle prodded and rubbed against his skin.

Chogan laughed and reached up to scruff his wolf’s furry neck. His fingers sank into the coarser upper hair, and down into the soft under-layer. The beast’s muscles flexed beneath his fingers. Sheer delight rose up inside him as they rough and tumbled together, the animal’s tail wagging wildly like an overexcited puppy. This was the first time he’d ever been in the same place as his spirit guide in two separate bodies, and from his wolf’s reaction, the animal was as excited about it as he was.

But he needed to focus. He was here to find Blake, and he wasn’t going to do so rolling around on the ground.

“Okay, okay, chill. We have a job to do.” His wolf wasn’t as big as it was when he shifted. It was still a big wolf, but more the size one was normally, rather than a shifter wolf. “We have to find Blake, have you seen him?”

The animal backed off and whined.

“What about his wolf?” he tried. “They might be together.”

The wolf’s chest and belly sank lower to the ground, its ears flattening against its head. Chogan could read its body language easily enough—the wolf hadn’t seen his cousin or wolf guide.

Chogan glanced back at where his body lay beside Blake’s. His uncle continued to walk around them, every so often throwing another pinch of herbs into the flame of one of the candles.

He realized he wouldn’t be able to go very far without losing sight of his body. And which direction should he even head in? Everything looked the same—just an expanse of endless tree trunks in every direction.

Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted, “Blake!”

He paused, but no sound came back to him. His wolf moved closer, and pressed against his legs. Chogan took comfort from the contact. He didn’t get the impression that his wolf was comfortable here either. It was as if Lakota’s magic had lifted them both onto this plain, and neither of them wanted to be here.

Chogan gave a sigh of exasperation, and picked a direction—though he didn’t know if it was north, south, east or west, or even if such directions existed here.

He set off, walking in his chosen direction. Not wanting to end up in the same position as Blake, he continued to check behind him, and as soon as he came to a point where he could only just spot the tip of his foot, he stopped. Cupping his hands to his mouth once more, he called for his cousin. “Blake! Hey, Blake, are you out there? It’s Chogan, I’ve come to bring you home.”

But he got no sense of another person anywhere close by.

Chogan returned to his body, chose a different direction, and tried again. He kept calling for Blake, praying he’d get a response but none came.

He tried again and again, but with no success, until each direction he could reach while still staying within viewing distance of his body was covered.

He returned to his body, his hand locked in his hair in dismay. His wolf pressed close to his legs.

His uncle had entrusted him with an impossible task.

How was he supposed to search for Blake, when he wasn’t allowed to leave his body?

––––––––

A
UTUMN LAY ON the narrow bunk, staring up at the ceiling.

Her first ever court experience had been short. Despite her protests against a lawyer, a young man who barely looked old enough to be out of school showed up to brief her about what was going to happen. Her arraignment had included the judge reading the charges to her and bail being set. Though the lawyer had tried to persuade her to plead guilty to both charges considering the video evidence, she’d pleaded guilty to illegal carrying of weapons, and not guilty to inciting hatred.

She’d considered requesting her allowed phone call, but then it dawned on her that she didn’t have anyone’s phone number. Most of those who’d had cell phones had lost them over the course of the last few weeks, and had not yet gotten around to replacing them. Of the ones who still had phones, she had no idea what their numbers were. The only telephone number she knew off by heart was her father’s house, and there was no point in calling that anymore.

Tears welled in her eyes. She didn’t even bother fighting them this time. Her father was dead, she was in a jail cell, and Blake was paralyzed. At this point, she felt like she was entitled to a little self pity.

Footsteps headed down the corridor toward her. She sat up slightly, waiting. The sheriff approached, and banged on the bars with a metal clang.

“Looks like it’s your lucky day.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “You think?”

“Yeah, you made bail.”

“I did?”

Chogan and the others must have figured out where she was, and come to bail her out. Her heart swelled with love for them. Where she’d been feeling the loneliest of her life only moments before, now the fact she had them all behind her buoyed her up.

She got up from the bunk, her muscles already stiff from the hard surface. She rolled her shoulders trying to release the kinks from them.

“Come on,” said Sherriff Petterson, sniffing derisively. “I haven’t got all day.”

Autumn dragged a hand through her matted curls and followed him out into the corridor. A number of other women inhabited the other cells—black, white, Hispanic, young, old, fat, or skinny. It seemed all were capable of committing a crime. A few lifted their heads from the mattresses and watched her with cold indifference as she walked past, but most either slept or pretended to sleep. Autumn’s heart skipped with a trippy beat, and her whole body tense. She was glad to be out of there, and couldn’t bring herself to consider the possibility of coming back again if she was convicted.