Raising Innocence (7 page)

And for the life of me, I couldn’t see anything but an empty hole.

S
weat pooled on my lower back, the plush seat wrapping me like a stifling hug from an overbearing aunt. Fumbling at the seatbelt, I stood up and walked to the thick black line I wasn’t to cross, and then back to my seat in an attempt to calm down. The Boeing 747 was huge, especially since it wasn’t set to be a typical commercial craft. The back half where I was sectioned off was open, more like a living room than an airplane.

Even though Agent Valley assured me that the FBI had rigged this plane to be impervious to the vibrations supernaturals gave off, I still wasn’t allowed any closer than necessary to the engines and the navigational equipment. Hence the thick black line on the cream colored carpeting.

Smart, but it made me wonder just
how
safe their crappy plane actually was. I paced my small area, the circle of my steps tightening with each round until I was back at my seat.

Eve had offered to fly to London, but I’d turned her down. Since it would take her at least a week, hopping from island to island across the Pacific Ocean then flying up the coast of Africa, or even if she went up the east coast through Canada and across Greenland, I told her to go back to Eagle and her training. The reality was if she couldn’t come with us, by the time she got to London, everything would be done. Alex and I would be on our own on this run. My mind shifted to Giselle and my heart clenched with sorrow.

Not yet.

Though Eve had argued half-heartedly, I could see by the glimmer in her eyes she was excited to go back to the Guardian and his training with her.

Alex hadn’t moved from his spot beside me, his claws carefully lifting the shade on the window up and down; like he was hypnotized. Which was not a bad thing after waking up to him howling Giselle’s name every hour the night before.

I leaned back in the chair and scrubbed at my over-tired eyes, listening to the voices floating back to me. I couldn’t hear what they were saying.

Hmm. But Alex could.

I tapped him on the shoulder and he rolled his head upside down to look at me. “Alex, what are they saying?” I pointed to the front of the plane.

He tipped his head, then lifted one floppy ear with the tips of two claws to hear better.

I had to smother a laugh, and once more, I was grateful he was with me.

“Parachutes. And plane crash,” he said, tongue flicking out to dangle in front of his nose.

My gut tightened and I no longer thought this trip was a good idea. Another Tracker or not, if I died on this flight because of whatever vibrations Alex and I gave off . . . who the hell knew if Agent Valley was even telling the truth? He could just be making things up as he went in order to get me to agree.

The engines rumbled and the plane started to move. Shit, too late to change my mind now.

I snapped my seatbelt on and then wrestled with Alex to do the same for him. Pouting, he sat awkwardly in the seat made for people, legs sticking out, arms folded across his chest. His body just didn’t quite work with the seat, but at least he was strapped in.

The flight attendant, Agent Valley, and another agent I didn’t recognize except for the standard FBI suit and tie, made their way to their seats and buckled up. A fourth person who had on a deep red hoodie, which covered his face, slipped into the seat at the very front, furthest away from me and Alex. Agent Valley called over his shoulder to me.

“This is your first time flying, isn’t it?”

I thought about Eve and me flying high over New Mexico. So maybe this wasn’t the same thing, but riding a Harpy with no rigging to hold you on was no mean feat.

“Nah.”

“Excellent. Then we won’t have to sedate you.”

Laughter followed his comment, and I grit my teeth. They must have seen me pacing. Assholes.

“Good thing you won’t have to try,” I said. “I’d hate to see your nose broken again, though I doubt it could look much worse than it does now.”

A sharp intake of air from the other agent and a muffled laugh from the guy in the hoodie filtered back to me. I settled back into my seat and closed my eyes. I could do this, I would not freak out, I would not freak out, I would not freak out . . . .

As the plane pulled into the air, my stomach dropped and I couldn’t stop myself from clenching the armrests. A distraction, that was what I needed. I pulled the opal pendant out of my left pocket and dangled it in front of me. No need to wear it, but I was going to keep it close. Giselle had never been wrong about her predictions, so I knew that at some point there would be a use for it. It spun slowly in the air, little pricks of color sparkled, and I mulled over the possibilities. Maybe I’d be dealing with another Reader, someone I would need to be lucid in order to crack the case.

“Alex sick.”

My eyes darted sideways to see Alex with his tongue hanging out, saliva pouring off it like a miniature river. Oh, shit, this was not good. I jammed the pendant back in my pocket, unbuckled him and clenched my hand around his collar, dragging him toward the bathroom as the plane climbed.

“Ma’m, you can’t leave your seat!” The flight attendant shouted at me.

“You do not want him puking anywhere but in the toilet!” I shouted back, thinking of all the food he’d eaten that morning.

We barely made it to the closet of a bathroom before Alex heaved his guts out, just making it into the tiny toilet. How people ever thought the mile high club was a good idea, I couldn’t see. We barely fit and we’d left the door open.

Alex retched until there was nothing left, which looked to be about four pounds of breakfast and snacks. Nothing that would have stayed in a barf bag, that was for sure.

I filled the sink with water and, taking a cloth, wiped his muzzle and face down. “Feel better now?”

He bobbed his head. “Tired.”

Slowly, Alex weaving like a drunk, we made our way back to our seats. The plane levelled off and the flight attendant came around. I took a ginger ale for Alex and a bottle of water for me.

To be in a place where the people didn’t freak out about Alex handling the pop can in an almost human manner, his claws gripping the condensation covered sides, was to say the least, strange.

Of course, he was also wearing his collar so maybe they were just seeing a large, and extremely dexterous, dog. Drinking pop.

I took a sip of my water and leaned my head back. I had a feeling it was going to be a long flight, and I prayed it wouldn’t continue as it had begun.

*-*-*-*

The smell of blood and flesh filled his nostrils. Tipping his head back, he breathed deeply, the fresh snow almost burying the trail he’d been following. A nearly inaudible crack of a twig underfoot brought his ears swivelling around, listening for the game he’d been trailing.

The flash of tan and a flick of a white tail as the deer caught his scent launched him into action.

Chasing the deer, lusting after the warm juices that would flow once he brought it down, it was easy to forget that he wasn’t just a wolf. That he was also a man. A man who’d left his world behind for this one. His thoughts betrayed him and his footsteps faltered, giving the deer the chance it needed to escape.

Unable to control himself, he shifted into his two-legged form, the sudden change in perspective throwing him off balance. As naked as the day he was born, he wobbled, and then fell to one knee.

The cold winter air bit along his bare skin, but he took it in, appreciated that he could feel it. The first few weeks of being a shifter, he’d taken out his rage on the local pack. They’d quickly realized he wasn’t to be ignored, and when he staked his claim around Rylee’s property, they’d backed off. Now though, he had no purpose. And still, he couldn’t bring himself to go back to the world that had once been the only one he’d known. The thing was, he wasn’t just a wolf. Something else lurked inside of him.

“What am I doing?” His voice hoarse from disuse.

A feminine sultry voice whispered across his skin, like fingers trailing along the overheated flesh. “Running away. That’s what you’re doing. But you don’t have to run, Liam.”

He spun in the snow, half-crouched, a snarl on his lips.

Dressed all in white, down to a thick white wolf pelt for a jacket and white boots topped with rabbit fur, Milly watched him with her bright green eyes. He resisted the urge to cover himself, but stayed in a crouch effectively blocking her roving, hungry eyes.

“How . . .” he coughed, clearing his throat. “Did you find me?”

She smiled and actually batted her eyelashes at him, as if that would work. “A friend of mine has a special place in his heart for wolves. A connection, if you will. He sent me to find you. To help you.”

O’Shea took a deep breath and caught the scent of another wolf. Narrowing his eyes, he let out a low growl. A flicker or movement twenty feet or so behind Milly confirmed his nose. She’d used a wolf to find him, to track his scent. But the wolf was a submissive, he could smell that much, and it was enough for him to dismiss the other shifter.

Did he trust her? O’Shea wasn’t sure. Rylee had trusted her, but did she still?

Taking the better, smarter part, he kept his mouth shut.

Milly filled in the silence. “I have something for you, something that will help you be human. You can chase the wolf back with it. Permanently.”

Lifting her hand, she dangled a woven strand of metal that, by the smell of it, was gold and diamonds. A torc, made to slip over his neck.

“You could keep her safe if you could control your wolf. As an alpha, it can take years to gain the control you need. She could die in that time. But with this you could keep her safe.”

His insides twisted at the thought of hurting Rylee, his desire to protect her overriding whatever other sense he might have at the moment. If it weren’t for the rage that took him unawares, he would have sought Rylee out already. As it was, he couldn’t trust himself not to kill her. A part of him knew that it wasn’t just the wolf that made him this way; it was something else. Something stronger.

Milly took a few steps closer, holding the torc out. “You don’t have to fight the beast in you if you don’t want to.”

The wolf inside of him spoke softly, though it was images more than words.
I am a part of you now. Together we are strong. Alone, we are weak.

The wolf was right, and though a part of him wanted to silence the rage, he knew he had to figure this out on his own. Even if it did take years.

Stepping back, he shook his head. “No, I have to find the balance. Thank you, Milly.” He turned his back to her and let the shift begin to take him.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Liam,” she said softly, the scent of ozone snapping through the air. “Truly, I am sorry.”

With the suddenness that only nature can provide, lightning cracked through the air, slamming into O’Shea’s body, stopping his shift. Light and dark danced in his vision, eyes of green coming into sharp focus as Milly bent over him.

The cold metal torc slid around his neck, tightening like the collar it was.

“Come now,” Milly said softly, drawing him to his feet, his mind screaming that he couldn’t go with her, that she was one of the ones, obvious now, that would hurt Rylee. But his body wouldn’t respond, bound tight by the spelled torc hanging so innocently around his neck.

With a smile that turned down at the edges, liquid brimming in her eyes, Milly brushed back a lock of his hair. “You have much to learn, Liam. So much to learn.”

*-*-*-*

We were somewhere over the Atlantic when Agent Valley finally deemed me worth coming to speak to rather than just shouting at me from across the plane. Apparently, he was still stinging from our encounter at my house. Too damn bad. I wasn’t here to pander to his emotional issues. Bad enough that I struggled to deal with my own and Alex’s.

Standing next to me, he held out a yellow manila envelope. “Here are some of the pictures of the children who’ve been taken. Now that you’re on the case, you can start Tracking them.” He flopped the envelope into my lap and walked back to his seat. Yup, definitely still pissy.

Sliding the pictures out, I cradled them in my lap. Each one had a name printed neatly on the back. I looked for Sophia’s, as she was the first to go missing, and according to Valley, wouldn’t stand a chance of being alive.

I reached out for her, to Track her, and encountered a big fat nothing. My muscles clenched and Alex turned to me as my heart rate spiked. No, this couldn’t be happening, not now, not again.

Only one other child had ever proved impossible for me to Track. My sister, Berget. When she went missing, my Tracker abilities came on line, only I didn’t know that until later. Every attempt I’d ever made to Track her once I knew what I was doing, to bring her body home so that she could be at peace finally, had ended in exactly this same feeling. Nothing.

Even if the child was dead, I should still be able to find them; I could still Track them. But this emptiness, this impossible feeling that they never even existed? Shit on a stick, I was in trouble. Trembling, I pulled another picture out, Benjamin, and Tracked his threads, looking where they should have been.

And got the same damn result. Nothing, a big fat emptiness in my head where the traces of his life should have been.

Shit, shit, shit.

I went through the whole pile of pictures and couldn’t get a bead on a single one of the kids. What the hell was I going to do if I couldn’t Track? Tucking the pictures back into the envelope, I stood and headed to the bathroom.

Locking the door behind me, I leaned on the sink, attempted to slow my breathing and heart down. This wasn’t possible. I’d never had this problem before except with Berget. But she was an anomaly. Even Giselle, when she’d still been lucid, had thought that Berget was a one-off, a single case that I would likely never have to deal with again. And now I had twenty-plus kids falling into the same category as Berget. What the fuck was I going to do?

The mirror reflected my eyes back to me, wide and sketchy, the tri-coloured rings swirling with gold, green, and dark brown. My skin was pale and I leaned forward, not wanting to see the evidence of my imminent failure. The minute we landed, I’d be screwed. How did I tell them that I couldn’t sense the kids? What would I do with my life if I couldn’t Track?