Avenging Autumn (21 page)

Blake raised his eyebrows. “You can say that again.” He reached down and took Chogan’s hand in his own, hauling him to his feet. “Thank you,” he said, pulling him into a hug and clapping him on the back. “You literally saved my soul.”

“Yeah, well we need you back. There’s shit going down that you need to know about.”

His body tensed. “Is Autumn all right?”

“She’s safe, as far as I know, but she’s been arrested. She got caught up in some stuff to do with the gang that had been causing trouble in Chicago—you know, the same ones I caught terrorizing Madison and Billy that time. Anyway, the police think she’s the ringleader, and have pulled her in because of it.”

“Shit!” Anger mounted inside him. “What the hell are you doing here then? You should have gone to help her!”

“I couldn’t. I had to help you first.”

“Bullshit. I thought you were in love with her. How can you be here, with me, when she’s all alone?”

“I’m not in love with her, Cuz. She’s yours, remember?”

“You’re still in love with her.”

“No, I care about her, but she’s with you now. There are plenty of other women around.”

“That’s bullshit. You shouldn’t have come here for me. She should always come first.”

“I was thinking of her, Blake. If she’d been released only to discover that you were lost in some spirit world, it would break her heart. She’s had her heart broken enough to last her a lifetime. Yes, I came here to help you, but I did it for her as well.”

Blake nodded. “Okay. Let’s stop standing around and get on with it.”

Lakota still moved around them, though he appeared tired, his shoulders slumped, his song weaker now, and breaking every now and then.

They both crouched to ruffle their wolves’ fur. “Thank you,” Blake said to them both. “We couldn’t have done this without you.”

And they went to their bodies and lay down.

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B
LAKE OPENED HIS eyes to find himself back in his body.

Lakota must have noticed the moment Blake’s eyes had opened. He immediately ended his singing, and raced over to his son’s side. He reached out his hand and helped Blake to sit up.

Blake glanced over at Chogan, who was already moving, blinking and groaning. The shapes of other figures stood around him, and he squinted up at them trying to make out their faces, and hoping—despite all he knew—that Autumn would be among them.

But no, only Peter, Mia, Tocho, Sahale, and Wenona looked down at him with worry in their eyes.

“It’s fine, guys,” he said, though his voice was hoarse. “I’m okay. I’m back.”

Mia rushed to his side and crouched, her arms around his neck to hug him hard. He was surprised to see tears in her eyes when she moved away.

“I’m so pleased,” she said. “I was so worried for Autumn. She’d have been devastated if you hadn’t come back.”

He looked around. “Autumn? Is she back yet?”

“No,” said Peter. “We’re going to have to go to the Brown County Sheriff’s Office, where they must be holding her, if they haven’t moved her to a different station. They might make it a federal charge. I don’t know ...”

“Let’s get everyone back to the house,” said Wenona. Her eyes cast worriedly at Lakota. Even Blake could see the day’s events had taken it out of his father.

“Yes,” said Chogan. “We need to refresh and regroup, and figure out how we’re going to break out Autumn.”

“Let’s not rush into anything,” said Peter. “There might be a legal way of getting her out, without having to break any laws, or jail cells for that matter.”

Peter and Tocho helped Blake up and into the chair. They wheeled him back to the house, and for once Blake accepted the help. It wasn’t weak to allow your friends to help now and then.

Once inside the house, Blake washed up, while Wenona and Mia busied themselves in the kitchen. Wenona might be able to handle a shotgun like a pro, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know her way around an oven. Within ten minutes, the warm scent of biscuits baking filled the house.

Blake left the bathroom and went back out into the kitchen. A strange, yet familiar bulk was hunched over the table, eating cookies off a plate. For a moment, his head swam, almost certain he was seeing things, but then reality settled again, and he realized he wasn’t hallucinating.

Adrenaline soared through Blake, his eyes narrowing. “What the hell is he doing here?”

Rhys turned to face him, and lifted a hand in a wave. “Hey, Blake,” he said, spitting crumbs as he spoke.

Chogan followed in behind. “Err, yeah, I probably should have mentioned that sooner.”

“You think?” Blake said, turning to his cousin.

“Vivian paid Rhys to help her bring in more shifters for her, and to contact The Company of Tooth and Claw. He was involved in the set-up that made Autumn appear to be involved with them, which was ultimately what got her arrested. Autumn thought we’d be best to keep him with us in case he could tell us where Vivian is.”

“And can he?”

“Not fully. He said she was coming back here, but there’s been no sign of her.”

“And what about him?” Blake said, nodding back toward Rhys. “The man is a traitor. How do we know he won’t turn on us again?”

“He’s no more than a coward who is easily bought,” said Chogan. “But anyway, Daisy has got his mood under control, don’t you Daisy?”

The mute girl gave a smile and took a bite of her own cookie.

Blake ran a hand over his head. “Jesus Christ. What else don’t I know about?”

The roar of a car engine pulled up outside. Blake wheeled himself over to peer out of the window. The car didn’t need to be marked for him to immediately recognize that the two people climbing out of it were police officers.

“Oh, shit. The cops are here.”

Chogan got to his feet. “They must be here about Autumn.”

Blake clenched his fists. “Let’s hope they have good news.”

Chogan went to the door, Blake following close behind. He felt the gazes of everyone else following them nervously. The police generally didn’t mean good things for them.

Chogan opened the door before they even had the chance to knock. The older of the two male police officers paused with his hand lifted, about to rap on the wood. With the door already open, his hand changed direction, pulling out identification from his pocket and flashing it at Chogan.

“I’m looking for a Mrs. Madison Powell,” the officer said. “I believe she’s here.”

“She was,” said Chogan, “but she left a couple of days ago. We gave her a ride after her car broke down on the highway, and she stayed here overnight, with her boy, and took off the next day. Can I ask what this is about?”

“We’re here on a missing person’s enquiry. Councilor Anthony John Powell has been missing since yesterday, and the last reports were that he was coming here in search of his wife and young son.”

Chogan’s eyebrows lifted. “You’re kidding right? Why the hell would a city councilor come here?”

“I already told you, in search of his wife and son. A friend of his wife’s was contacted by Madison, and was told that she was here.”

“Yeah,” Chogan admitted. “Madison was here with her boy, but not for long. She took off, already.”

The older cop held up a photograph. “Do you recognize this man?”

Chogan shook his head. “No. Never seen him before. I’m not exactly clued up on politics. I normally live on Red Lake reservation, as does my uncle here, and a couple of the other guys. We just came to visit Auntie Wenona over there.” Wenona gave them a sweet smile, and lifted her hand in a wave, but Blake noted how her fingers were trembling. His own stomach was twisted with a sickening sense that he knew exactly what was coming.

The cop looked over to him, his eyes first assessing the chair Blake sat in. “What about you, sir? Do you recognize the man in the photograph?” The officer turned the photo to face Blake, and Blake steeled his face into a stone mask. He couldn’t show any sign of recognition, even though the image he was looking at was the same guy he’d shot to death only twenty-four hours earlier. The man in the photograph was clean shaven, with groomed hair, a grey suit, and a carefully schooled smile. It looked like the sort of photograph that would have been used on his campaign posters. The expression wasn’t anything like that of the furious guy who had been here the other night. Why the hell hadn’t Madison told them who her husband was? This was bound to come down on them. Blake wished they’d driven the truck farther away. It was out in the middle of the forest, as far out as they’d been able to get it before the undergrowth got too thick to drive through. He’d given Wenona and Lakota instructions to drive it into a tree in case anyone found it, then they might think he’d simply had an accident, gotten disoriented, and wandered off into the forest, where he’d died of exposure.  The body had been buried out there as well, though Blake hadn’t thought to tell them to bury it deep. He couldn’t have expected them to do too much, especially as he’d not been able to help himself. He’d been hoping the others would have been able to help more when they got back to get rid of the body. It had supposed to have been a temporary measure. It had never occurred to him that someone would come looking for the asshole.

The cop tried to move farther into the house. “Mind if we take a look around?” His head was already peering through, as if he intended to do so, whatever they’d said, but Wenona stepped into his path.

“I think you need a warrant for that, Officer.”

He gave a tight-lipped smile. “No problem, I’m sure we can get one of those, especially considering the identity of the missing person.”

He handed Chogan a card. “But in the meantime, should you hear from Madison Powell again, or hear anything about the whereabouts of Anthony John Powell, don’t hesitate to get in touch.”

“Of course,” said Chogan, taking the card.

He carefully shut the door behind him, and then spun to face Blake. “What the fuck was that all about?”

“Something happened while you were gone,” said Blake, his stomach churning.

Chogan glared at him. “No shit. And to think you were complaining about being kept in the dark about things. I think you have some serious explaining to do.”

Blake couldn’t argue with him about that.

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A
UTUMN GLANCED OVER at the older man driving the car. While she was thankful to be out of the jail cell, she didn’t trust the person sitting beside her. “I need you to take me back to my friends.”

He gave her a fleeting look, taking his eyes off the road for only a moment. “The other shifters, am I right? The group staying at the homestead owned by the old Native American woman.”

Autumn eyed him suspiciously. “Yes, that’s right. How do you know about them?”

“I try to make it my business to know everything.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”

“I told you,” he said, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “A friend of your mother’s.”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“What?”

“A friend of my mother’s—in the present tense.”

“Because that’s what I am, Autumn. Your mother is still alive.”

She felt like someone had punched her, shock blinding her mind, clearing all thought from it. “What? No, that’s not possible. I’d know.”

He smiled. “You do know now.”

“No, I mean ... It’s been years. She’s dead. My father was there when she died. We
buried
her!”

“Your mother survived, and you buried a body, but it wasn’t hers. Your mother was able to do what you can, Autumn. Of course, we had no idea her gift had been passed down to you. If we had, we’d have taken you away from there in a blink of an eye. But you appeared to be living a perfectly normal life. Until recently, of course.”

“A normal life? I lost my mother. My father grieved so hard, he forgot he had a daughter. My friend’s parents practically raised me.”

“I understand it was hard, but you were safe. You weren’t living in a cell, and no one was experimenting on you. If your mother had stayed, and more people found out about her, that would have changed.”

“So couldn’t she just have left? Why did she have to fake her own death?”

“She needed to draw a line under her existence. If she’d just left, you would have tried to find her again, and that would have drawn attention to you. We’d hoped things would calm down, and they did for a very long time—years, in fact. But then you met Blake Wolfcollar, and everything blew up again.”

Her stomach clenched at the sound of Blake’s name. “Does he know my mother is still alive?” Somehow, the thought of him feeding that lie to her was even worse than her mother’s betrayal.

Robert Carter laughed. “No, of course not. The Native Americans have nothing to do with your mother.”

“She must have been one of their descendents, though, like I am.”

“Yes, many generations ago, but that really has nothing to do with why she faked her own death.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s better coming from her. I can take you to her.”

Her heart stopped, her mind swimming. Her first thought was that she wished her father had lived long enough to learn the woman he’d loved for so long had still been alive, and her eyes filled with angry tears. Her throat tightened, a sharp pain piercing the back of it as she struggled to compose herself. “No! I don’t want to see her! She put us through hell.”

“She was only trying to protect you.”

“Bullshit. What did she think would happen?”

“Exactly what’s happening to you now.”

“This has been going on for weeks—what I can do was exposed ages ago. Why are you just showing up now?”

“Things were going so well for you. You were making a difference. But your name is being associated with this terrorist group, and what you’ve worked so hard for could all fall apart.”

“So you want to help me now? But where were you and my mother when Vivian Winters was holding me prisoner, and draining my blood for her experiments? Where were you when my father was being murdered?”

His eyes widened. “Professor Anderson is dead?”

“Yes, Vivian slit his throat and then sent me his amputated hand as a present.” She lifted her hand to reveal the gold wedding band she wore around her thumb. “This was his and my mother’s wedding ring.”