Bitter Blood (BBi)

Chapter 34: Clandestine

Chapter Thirty-four
Clandestine

When Blue's a Husky, he snores a little when he sleeps.

In the passenger side of the Impala, the white and grey dog curled up on my black leather seat breathes heavily out of his wet nose with a high pitched wheeze.

The heater is blasting warm air into the small car cabin, extinguishing the cold that is seeping in through the glass windows from outside. We've been on the road for an hour and already I've stopped three times to get snacks at the closest opportunity. Despite all the cheese Twisties, chocolate bars, and cans of Coke, my stomach feels as if it's still eating itself. I think it's moved on to trying to nibble on my liver now, too.

My fingers tap against the steering wheel in beat with the song on the radio and by the third verse I've started to sing along with the tune. My cell phone rings on the dash and I reach over to answer it.

I put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“HeyParkit'sLara.” She says that one sentence so fast that it takes me a second to decipher what she actually said.

“Hey, what's going on?” I ask and switch the phone over to the other hand.

“Have you heard from Avery yet?” she asks.

Crap. I forgot to tell her.

“Yeah. She's okay.” I reply. “Call her. She'll pick up this time.”

“Alright. Thanks. I'll do that now.”

And she hangs up.

I toss the phone up onto the dash again. Have fun with that, Avery.

I put the car in third gear and keep driving.

It takes another hour to get to Naelake and night has fallen dark and heavy over the landscape by the time I hit the main road.

Naelake is an old town made up of a few dozen buildings at the center of miles of farming land. Families live on their own wide open properties, surrounded in animals and fields of fruit and vegetables. Stacey's grandmother owns one of these farms and grows all her food in her very own backyard. But this time of year Naelake is buried in two feet of snow, making self sustainability a little harder than usual.

When I drive through town and start to pass the long driveways leading to the farm houses I flick on my high beam and search for a sign saying Jacobson Farm.

Like all the other driveways, the name of the place I'm searching for hangs up at the entrance to the farm where the front gate is left open for the nights visitors. I keep driving past, park my car up the road and make my way back to the gates with Blue alongside me.

I pull my black hood up over my head and tuck my hands into my coat pockets. The only thing I can smell is the plethoric amount of perfume I applied before leaving the house and the rose scented shampoo I used during my shower; both my best attempts at masking my natural scent.

I just hope it works.

Further down the snow patched driveway a light burns in the darkness. I follow it like a moth to a flame, and as I approach I see where the light is coming from; a huge, red barn with two massive front doors pulled wide open to welcome in a steady stream of people. By the noise coming from within, I can safely assume that there's already a crowd of dozens of Shapeshifters inside.

I look down at Blue and he flicks his gaze up, already feeling the resolve in me.

“Stay here.” I tell him and he has to listen.

I approach the doors, my face hidden in the shadows of my hood, and slip in beside a tall man near the back of the room, becoming just another in the myriad of diverse people packing themselves into the space.

Cigarette smoke twists through the air and fills my senses. I can see my breath curl out in a cloud of white in front of me, just like it is for everyone else. The chatter around me is loud enough to drown out the sound of my thundering heart that thumps in my chest like the beat of a drum.

I can barely see the stage behind all the bodies piled in together, practically blocking my view. But once everyone settles I shift my position just a little to the left and find a semi clear path for me to watch through.

A man climbs up onto the stage, flannel shirt tucked into his denim jeans and jawline darkened by a five o'clock shadow. The crowd begins to quiet until a near silence falls. The man's carrying a mic in his hand and holds it up when he decides to speak, steely gaze drifting over the gathered people.

“My name is Alrick.” he says, his deep voice ringing out through the barn. “Most of you know why we're here, and all of you have come seeking answers. Each one of us knows what its been like out there. Running and hiding, denying what we truly are in order to keep ourselves safe. For decades we have been on our own, forced to fight and die without anyone there to help us. We have lost people – all of us.”

A collective grief rolls over the crowd, a tension that almost solidifies the gathering as one.

“But we do not need to suffer in silence any longer.” Alrick announces. “Together we are strong, we are powerful, and this is our chance to join forces, to fight back.”

Nods and mutterings of agreement follow the Shapeshifter's words and people move in closer, pressing in against my back, taking the comforting cold coming in through the barn doors out of my reach.

My steady breathing starts to quicken and I begin to regret my decision to leave Blue outside.

“Everyone has heard the stories of the great Alphas.” Alrick continues. “And over the last several years we've been tracking down the remaining descendants of their old bloodlines, bringing them back to us, restoring their birthright.”

A murmur goes through the crowd as Alrick looks to the side to a point I can't see. He gives a nod, steps away from the center of the stage, and keeps his eyes fixed on the people stepping up onto the rise.

I try to glimpse their faces, the shape of their bodies, but all I can catch is the odd piece of dark hair or tanned skin or black clothing, until they fall into my line of sight and I see them.

The Alphas.