Chapter 15
“Are we still in Texas?” I complained at our fifth hour in the car. “I’m sick of all these boring oak trees and eighteen-wheelers.”
“Almost,” Krys promised me. “This is the interstate I took with Atticus that time we went to Arkansas.”
“We’re not going near that town, are we?” Cleo asked.
I peered between the seats. “Hey, sleepyhead.”
For the first two hours, Cleo listened to her music while daydreaming out the window. The scenery bored her to sleep before we even made it to Dallas.
She yawned and stared out the windshield as we sped past a gas tanker.
Krys stole a glance over his shoulder at her. “Are you hungry? We’re about to hit Texarkana. There’s a bunch of places to eat, but we should probably get it to go.”
I knew his meaning. Cleo might shift involuntarily if we stayed in one place for too long.
“I need to stretch my legs and use the bathroom,” I told him. “My toes are numb, and my bladder’s reaching maximum capacity.”
“I told you not to drink that whole bottle of soda.”
I put my visor up. “What do you feel like eating, Cleopatra?”
She beamed when I used her full name. “Um, what is there?”
Krys adjusted the vents. “Burgers, chicken, salad… What sounds good?”
“I guess chicken if it’s grilled and doesn’t have all that crispy stuff on it. Maybe a salad.”
“I’ll have a big bowl of beans,” I quipped, which received double the laughter in the back seat, reminding me of our uninvited passenger.
Darcy had been uncharacteristically quiet after Cleo fell asleep earlier. Whatever her reason, it gave me a mental break.
“I need to pull over for gas first,” Krys said. “This thing gets shitty mileage, and we’re taking a few routes off the beaten path. I better top it off when I can.”
When the song on the radio changed over, Darcy’s head shot right through Krys’s chest. “Turn it up! I love this song!”
“Just a Girl” by No Doubt had started up, and I only recognized it because decades ago, I frequented a club that played it on repeat.
Darcy bobbed her head to the beat while singing through Krys’s chest.
Nothing creepy about that.
“Can you turn off the music?” Cleo asked.
Darcy stared daggers at me. “You’ll regret it if you do. I’ll sit on your lap the whole way.”
“Music keeps me from getting carsick,” I announced, pulling the most random lie out of a hat.
Krys frowned. “Since when?”
“Since now. Keep that on. My life depends on it.”
Krys turned the music down but not off.
Darcy floated to the back, presumably to find one of the speakers.
“Let’s play a game,” Cleo suggested.
That piqued my interest. “What game?”
“Questions and answers.”
“I don’t think I’ve heard of this one.”
Cleo leaned into view. “Who were your parents?”
Krys sighed. “Kid, that’s personal.”
“So? It’s not like you’re ever going to see me again.” Her face turned sullen, and she sat back. “Fine. Never mind.”
I decided to participate in her game so the drive wouldn’t be miserable. No matter how many years went by, I hated mentioning my father. But these were our last days with Cleo, and I didn’t see any harm in being honest with her.
Twisting around to face her, I revealed my humble beginnings. “I was born in 1834 in Memphis, Tennessee. My mother was a beautiful woman and a seamstress. Not the most affectionate, but she gave me the best life she could.”
“What about your dad?”
“An absentee father. They weren’t married. Nathaniel had a large family of his own and didn’t want another child to add to his collection. They lived in the country, and we never saw them. I didn’t even know about him until I was old enough to understand.”
“Did you ever meet your father?”
My gaze drifted off as I remembered the one time I saw him picking up supplies in a general store. I only knew it was him because the clerk called out his name. When our eyes met, I hoped he would recognize me, but he didn’t. Or maybe he did and chose to ignore me. Neither was an acceptable option.
“He never visited me once,” I told her. “I was the child he didn’t want.”
“Do you ever want to talk to him now?”
“For what? Reconciliation? He lost his opportunity. Besides, I think he’s dead now.”
“So it was just you and your mom?” Cleo’s questioning reminded me of an interviewer or a psychologist, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about the inquisition.
“Yeah, and sometimes that’s enough. Eventually we joined a pack, but they kicked me out.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a crossbreed.”
The steady hum of the tires filled the awkward silence.
“Do you think anyone will want me in their pack?” she finally asked.
Krys looked at her in the rearview mirror. “You’re going home to live with your mom, but when you’re old enough, if you want to join a pack, we’ll have your room ready. But you’re a cat, so you may not want to.”
“Aunt Eden did.” Cleo scooted forward to finish grilling me. “Was your father a Shifter?”
“No, he was a Gravewalker. My mother was the wolf. Life was different back then, and I was a stain on his reputation since he was married with a family. On top of that, I was half Shifter.”
“If he already had a big family, why was he with your mom?”
How am I supposed to answer that?
Now I was pondering exactly how much information I should give to a fourteen-year-old kid. Had anyone educated her on sex and marriage? I sure didn’t want to be the one to burst her bubble on the stork.
“It’s harder for two different Breeds to conceive,” I finally said, deciding not to overthink it. “He thought fooling around with a Shifter would lower the risk of an unplanned pregnancy.”
“Unless she was in heat,” Cleo added.
Krys coughed against his shoulder, likely hiding a laugh.
“Adults make bad decisions.” I faced forward again and decided that was enough talk about my deadbeat dad. “Luckily, my mother blessed me with her stunning good looks, but I sure didn’t get my love of singing from her. That woman couldn’t carry a tune if she held a radio in her arms.”
Cleo giggled at my bad joke.
Krys acknowledged me with a deadpan expression. “I didn’t know all that.”
I put my sunglasses on. “Now you do.”
She directed her questioning to Krys. “What about your parents?”
Krys remained quiet.
Cleo propped her foot on the console and was quiet for a stretch. “When I was in that lab, I used to keep track of the days by mealtimes. I counted seven months before I lost track.”
Krys switched off the radio.
“They cut me open because they wanted my eggs,” she went on. “They never told me why they wanted them. I was their property, and they acted like I wasn’t even there. Sometimes when I made too much noise, they left the light on for a week.”
“What for?” I asked.
“So I couldn’t sleep. I tied a pillowcase around my eyes, but it didn’t really help. When they finally turned off the lights, I crashed. That’s when they ran tests on me.”
“Why then?” I asked.
“I used to fight them. The Vampires couldn’t charm me because I’d shut my eyes or cross them.
I even scratched one guy’s face. That’s when they started coming in while I was asleep.
They’d pin me down, and I’d wake up to the lab guys shoving needles into my arms. Sometimes they’d pull my hair out or make me drink disgusting medicine.
Once they put a big needle into my bone. That one hurt real bad.”
Now her night terrors made sense. They were less frequent now, but when she first came to us, there were many nights she woke up screaming bloody murder.
I tried to help, but she didn’t want me or Salem.
The women tried, thinking maybe she had a fear of men.
Even Tak tried to work his alpha magic, but the only person who could ever calm her down was Krys.
We turned in to the gas station and parked near the doors.
Cleo put her foot down. “I don’t want to go, but my mom needs me. Do you think I’ll recognize her? I guess it doesn’t matter. Tak said she’d be really sad if I didn’t go back. That it would be like someone kidnapping Jasper and Aunt Hope never seeing him again.”
Krys shut off the engine and stared at the brick wall. “When I was eleven, a Vampire entered our home through an open window and kidnapped me.”
I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Krys casually unbuckled his seat belt. “Vampires can do all that shadow walking, and they don’t have a personal scent that wolves can pick up. Makes it easy for them to sneak onto the property.” He took off his sunglasses and set them on the dash.
“Why didn’t you scream?” she asked quietly.
“I woke up with a hand over my mouth. When I looked into his eyes, he charmed me.”
Anger funneled through my body, and I gripped the armrest to control my emotions before my wolf came out. I found myself breathing heavily as my heart rate picked up.
Krys scratched his temple. “They used to steal kids and train them for cage fighting. Hell, they still do.”
“What’s cage fighting?” she asked.
“They toss fighters into a cage or a pit and place bets on who will win or come out alive. The bloodier the battle, the more entertaining. It’s illegal, and most fighters aren’t there by choice.
Usually it’s Shifters against Shifters, but sometimes they throw in other Breeds for fun.
The big moneymakers were the death matches. ”
“You fought other people in a cage?”
He turned his head but stared at the center console instead of making eye contact with her. “Yeah, Cleo. I fought.”
“How did your parents find you?”
“They didn’t. They wrote me off as a runaway. Years later, I escaped and went home, but they didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Why not?”
“Because of what I did.”
“But… didn’t they make you do all those fights?”