One True Mate 3: Shifter's Echo Page 4

  “So where did the shiften come from?”

  Crew rolled his eyes. “There’s dozens of creation stories, but I have no idea which to believe. Each faction has a different one.”

  “What is the shiften’s creation story?”

  “Each type has their own. Some of them are ridiculous, like the rabbits think that The Great Hare created them to take over the land by sheer numbers. They are everywhere in the country, but not too many come into Tranquility because there are so many wolven there who love a good chase.”

  Beckett shook his head, dazed, then sank back into his chair. “Rabbit shifters?” He chuckled under his breath, but his eyes were still far away. He faced Crew again. “Tranquility?”

  “That’s Serenity’s name over there. Lots of little stuff is different while the essence remains the same. It gives me a headache trying to keep it all straight.”

  Beckett sat back in his chair, throwing a leg over the side, his hand to his forehead, his eyes far away again. “Tell me everything. I want to know it all.”

  A tiny pang tugged at Crew’s midsection. He looked at the clock. He’d only been awake for a bit over an hour, but he wanted to go back. He didn’t love that strange, savage world he woke up in when he slept in this world, but something told him he needed to be there early today.

  “Dude, I’ve got work to do. I’m behind on─”

  Beckett made a face. “Right. Like you’ve done any work in months.” He faltered for a second and Crew thought he was remembering four weeks ago, when Crew had orchestrated the trade of Trevor for Ella and her sister. Khain hadn’t kept his end of the bargain of course, but they had still managed to get the females and Trevor out of the Pravus in one piece. Crew knew he might not do a lot of busy work, but he came through when it mattered.

  Beckett lifted his chin. “Tell me about the humans and then I’ll leave you alone… but I’ve got to go back to Wade with something. He’s worried about you.”

  Crew sighed. “So you’ve said.” He frowned, but knew he wasn’t going to get out of it. “Over there, it’s survival of the fittest. The entire world is modern when it comes to cars and computers, but medieval in attitude. The country is still called America, but the government is mainly there to wage war and defend the borders, not for anything like infrastructure or schools. That’s where the humans come in. They are weaker than shiften without weapons, but they’ve proved their usefulness because they are willing to work hard labor, which most shiften aren’t. Plus, they are geniuses with computers. The problem is they are banding together and demanding rights they don’t currently have, like the right to vote and the right to drive and the right to travel outside of their city of birth whenever they want. They also want laws put in place that would treat the murder of a human the same as the murder of a shiften.”

  Beckett gaped. “It’s not like that now?”

  Crew shook his head. “The place is mostly lawless, honestly, but no, there’s no punishment imposed on any being who murders a human, even if they do it for no reason at all.”

  “And you want to live there permanently? How can the worlds be so different?”

  Crew dropped his eyes, then looked back, meeting Beckett’s gaze with difficulty. “The world may be savage, but over there my fate is not decided. I still could find a mate.”

  Beckett leaned forward intently. “Crew, I swear, we aren’t going to let Khain get your female. We’ll do anything we can to stop it. Wade’s sitting in repose once a day, asking Rhen for help. He hasn’t gotten any answers but─” He stopped talking suddenly and leaned forward in his chair to snatch something out of the pocket of his old pants. “Damn, I forgot I was supposed to give you this. You can watch the video if you want, but this is what Wade said. He went to Rhen specifically with the question, ‘Is there any way to save Crew’s one true mate?’”

  Beckett handed over the scrap of paper and Crew unfolded it, then read it, his mind closed against hope.

  The seed of her safety was given to you by he who will kill her.

  He held it up and scowled at Beckett. “What does it mean?”

  “Wade thinks it’s aimed at you. That you have a way to save her. Something that Khain is responsible for, something he did to you.”

  Crew balled up the piece of paper viciously and threw it in the garbage. “By he who will kill her? It fucking says she’s as good as dead.” He stood and walked to the door, opening it. “I got shit to do, Beck, so if you don’t mind…”

  Beckett stood and the pity on his face did not go unnoticed by Crew. Crew growled viciously. He hated pity.

  Beckett looked away. “Can I tell Wade you’ll accept a guard?”

  “Yeah, whatever,” Crew said, but in his mind, he was already back in his dream world. The feeling that he needed to get there earlier than usual grew stronger inside him.

  Beckett nodded. “Nice. You going to the rut?”

  Crew’s brows drew together. He didn’t even know when the moon would be full in this world, but he wasn’t going to tell Beckett there was no way he was going anywhere that there would be females. “When?”

  “Tomorrow. Mac’s found a bunch of new females.”

  “You going?”

  Beckett stared out into the hallway. “I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea a month ago, but now that two one true mates have actually been found, I feel like I want to give mine a chance to show up. I’d rather have her than one night of rut sex, if you want to know the truth. I could run instead. Work off the energy some other way.”

  Crew nodded. He knew exactly what Beckett meant. He’d keep the fact that he planned on going to a rut in the dream world that very night to himself. There were no one true mates in the dream world, and a rut was the best place to meet a shiften mate. Females got just as wild, unpredictable, and aggressive as males did around the time of the full moon. In the dream world, the full moon lasted for three full nights, making all those states three times worse.

  ***

  An hour later, Crew sat on the couch, a bottle of sleeping pills in one hand, the crumpled piece of paper in the other, gritting his teeth against the hope that was trying to bloom in his rigid countenance. He who will kill her. How could she come back from being killed? She couldn’t, and he was a fool to even consider there was a way. But that word taunted him.

  Safety.

  Her safety.

  Crew scrunched the paper again and threw it on the floor, then popped the top off the sleeping pill bottle. He eyed how many were left, dreading how they would make him feel once he’d gotten over there, how they would blunt his already dull senses. But there was no way he was falling asleep without them. He’d only been awake for two hours.

  He needed to be there. Now.

  He put his head back and emptied half the bottle into his mouth, grimacing as he dry swallowed them, then screwed the cap on, dropped the bottle to the floor, flopped onto his side on the couch, and waited for the pills to take effect.

  Someday, he’d have the courage to take two or three bottles at once and see what happened.

  He didn’t want to die. Far from it. But instinct told him a death in this world might mean a permanent stay in the other world.

  Savage or not, he would choose a world where his one true mate didn’t exist over one in which she was murdered in front of him because of something foolish he’d done when he was young.

  If he never met her, she wouldn’t have to die.

  Chapter 4

  Dahlia stopped and leaned against a tree, circling her ankles and stretching her calves. She wanted to sit down to rest, but the night was getting colder and if she didn’t find somewhere to sleep, she’d have to stay awake all night just to keep from freezing to death. She had passed a few houses, but the KEEP OUT signs, closed gates, and high fences hadn’t inspired confidence that the occupants would welcome a guest, especially one who had no proof of who she was and no money to pay for anything.

  In the distance, on the other side of the tree
s in front of her, she heard a woman’s shrill laughter and a man’s jovial yell. She must be close to somewhere! She’d probably walked seven or eight miles and her feet were starting to ache and rub in several spots, but the sounds of civilization gave her new energy. She began to walk again, following the road, thinking about the first time she’d realized not everyone traveled to another world in their sleep.

  She’d been young, maybe eight or nine, in Miss Haskell’s third grade class and had tried to explain to her best friend Lucinda the experiments she’d been doing every night to see what transferred from one world to the other.

  “The beads I hold in my hands when I go to sleep never go with me,” she said breathlessly, holding up her hands, gripped tightly like she had something small tucked into the palms. “And my clothes don’t either. But look.” She pulled up her right sleeve so Lucinda could see the scar on her forearm in the shape of a short, squiggly line. “I did that in my dream world with my uncle’s knife, and it shows up over here, but it looks really old over here, like I did it a long time ago. I bet when I go back tonight it will look like a fresh scab.”

  Lucinda had looked at her like she was crazy. “You cut yourself?”

  “Just for an experiment. Haven’t you ever done anything like that? Don’t you experiment in your dream world?”

  “Dreams aren’t real, Dahlia.”

  Dahlia had stopped to think about that. “Of course they are.”

  But Lucinda had backed away from her and told Miss Haskell, and then Dahlia had been taken to the school psychiatrist.

  Dahlia frowned as the snow crunched under her feet, shoving her hands farther into her pockets. Her aunt and uncle hadn’t known what to do with her, but the psychiatrist had a few ideas. He’d recommended they pump her full of drugs. The medications did seem to stop her dreams for a long time. But they’d also made her cut herself for real and pull out her own hair in long, lonely strands.

  As a pre-teen, she’d stopped taking them, flushing them down the toilet every morning and night. The dreams had started again, shocking her at how much had changed in her second world without her knowledge, like the version of her in her second world didn’t need her at all.

  Dahlia saw lights ahead of her and she almost cried with relief. She walked faster, trying to push thoughts of her second world out of her mind. She frowned. She couldn’t very well call this world the new dream world. It would get confusing. Even if this was the only night she ever spent in it, it deserved a name. She refused to think any farther than tonight. It was too scary to do otherwise.

  She glanced around, looking for something good to name the world after. Words had power. Names had even more power. She turned and began to walk backwards, noting and discarding the lumpy moon, not letting herself think about how it could possibly be lumpy unless it was created in a vastly different way than her own moon had been. She wasn’t going to call the world Lumpy Moon, so no use worrying about it right now. A name, she needed a name.

  The three lights next to it caught her eye, the ones she’d decided must be planets. They sat in a canted line, reminding her of Orion’s belt back home.

  Orion’s Belt. That was it! She smiled in satisfaction because her new dream world had a name, and it was everything she thought a name should be. Strong. Mysterious. Resonating. Even if she never came back, she would always remember this world as Orion’s Belt.

  Maybe she would write a story about Orion’s Belt someday, if anything interesting happened here.

  Anything more interesting than dying in one world and waking up in another. No one would believe that one.

  ***

  Crew opened his heavy eyes in his dream world and looked around his small room, his gaze settling on the clock. 5:02 in the evening. He was only two hours early. He pushed to his feet and hoped two hours was early enough for… whatever he had sensed he needed to be here for. He hated that he couldn’t control exactly when he entered this world by when he went to sleep in the other.

  He swayed slightly and held a hand to his head. His senses were always dulled in this world like he really didn’t belong in it, but taking the sleeping pills made it so much worse. He felt like his brain was full of sand. He probed for Khain’s hook inside him. Gone. Like it always was over here. Relief at that, at least.

  He lurched to his dresser and pawed through it for clothes, then headed for the bathroom, wanting a shower badly. He didn’t notice a book on the floor and stepped right on it, his foot slipping across the carpet with it, his big body crashing down to his knees.

  Outside his room he heard Mac swear, then his door was ripped open and Mac glowered down at him, his face breaking into a welcoming smile Crew never saw in the real world.

  “Spook, you’re early!” His voice was lowered like he didn’t want someone else to hear him. “You’re excited about the rut, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah,” Crew managed as he pushed to his feet. “Sure.”

  A female voice sounded behind Mac. “Is he OK?”

  Crew groaned internally. Mac’s younger sister was over.

  Mackenzie peeked around Mac, her blonde curls bouncing. She looked gorgeous, as always. She pushed past Mac and touched Crew on his sides, just above his hip bones, gazing into his eyes with concern. “Crew, are you hurt? You look awful.”

  Crew stepped back from her, out of touching range. “I just need a shower.” He made his way around Mackenzie and lifted his chin at Mac. “I’m heading out early. You can meet me there if you want. Gonna patrol a bit, just to see what’s doing.” Normally they patrolled all night, trying to keep human assaults to a minimum, but they had the night off for the rut, trusting the patrolling to one of their trainee groups. Crew wanted out of the house though. Mackenzie was a wild card, always touching him and trying to get close to him. He was glad she wouldn’t be allowed at the rut.

  “I’m ready whenever you are,” Mac said. “Mackenzie’s headed out to Loganville for their rut with some of her friends.”

  “I’ll clean up Crew’s room first,” Mackenzie said, a note of something in her voice Crew couldn’t identify.

  Crew shook his head. “I wish you wouldn’t,” he called, then threw his clothes in the bathroom and headed back to the kitchen. Eating something would help him feel more like himself. As much like himself as was possible in this world. At the table, two bowls of half-eaten cereal swimming in milk sat on the table. Crew made a face at Mac, who had followed him into the room. Crew picked up the box of Frosting Flakes. “I don’t know how you can eat this shit. Doesn’t it give you indigestion?”

  “Nah. We don’t eat it for the nutrition. We eat it for the prize. Look.”

  Crew looked. In big letters the box stated 1 of 3 Terrariums Inside. He grunted. “I almost forgot you two were into that.”

  Mac picked up the box and shook it, making little bits of flaked sugar fly out the top. “Since she could first eat cereal, Spook! So that’s, what, twenty-eight years now?”

  “Dig it out of there. Let’s see how awesome this thing is.”

  “No can do. We have to eat our way to it. No digging. So unless you want a bowl, we won’t be seeing that terrarium until tomorrow or the next day. And how could you forget? Haven’t you seen Mackenzie’s cereal prize shrine at her house, and the one in her old room at Mom’s house?”

  Crew looked away. “I stayed out of her room. And I’ve never been to her house.”

  “Yeah, fucker, cuz you never accept any invites to go anywhere.” He looked towards Crew’s room to make sure Mackenzie couldn’t hear them, then lowered his voice. “That’s why I broke out this box. Mackenzie was asking questions about you. I had to distract her.”

  Crew snuck a look that way, too. “What kind of questions?”

  “Did you still have your amnesia? Had we ever figured out who you really were?” He dropped his voice farther still. “She wanted to go into your room and see if you were there. She heard a rumor you disappear when you sleep. You’re gonna have to put a lock on
the door.”

  Crew looked for something to snatch and work with his restless hands. “Who’d she hear the rumor from?”

  “She wouldn’t say. But it’s an old rumor, from back when you first showed up here. Don’t worry. She probably heard it a long time ago and just now got up the courage to ask. I’ve noticed her looking your way lately.”

  Crew took a step backwards, eyeing Mac in nervous confusion. “She’s not.”

  Mac nodded. “She is. Don’t act surprised. She’s always been into you, even you know that. But now that she’s not dating that bear any more, she’s thinking about you again.” Mac said ‘bear’ like the word tasted like dirt in his mouth.

  Crew snatched up the cereal box and bent it in his hands. “Don’t worry. I’ll never go there.”

  Mac sat down and lifted a spoonful of cereal to his mouth, speaking while chewing and avoiding Crew’s eye. “It wouldn’t be a bad thing if you did. She’s a good girl. And there’s no one I trust more than you. In fact, she asked me if I would sign the waiver to let her into tonight’s rut.”

  Panic seized Crew, and he knew it was bad, because normally he could feel very little emotion in this world. But he felt the closing of his throat and the spurt of adrenaline in his bloodstream. He fell into Mackenzie’s chair, still mangling the cereal box. “I can’t. You know I can’t. My secret…”

  “She would keep it. You know she would.”

  “But, but I’m a freak of nature she could never have a normal life with because I disappear every night. I don’t want her to know that. And she’s your little sister.”

  Mac’s face grew hard and he lifted his spoon at Crew. “She’s also thirty years old. She wants a mate. If that mate is you, I’m not going to stand in her way. You just can’t fuck her over.”

  Crew groaned and put the cereal box on the table, then stood. His appetite was gone, but the panic was working him over anyway, making him feel more than he wanted.

  Crew desired a mate, too, but could he really try for one in this world while he still disappeared out of it every night? And Mac’s sister? That would take some getting used to. What if he fucked it up? Could he chance alienating the only person in this world who knew his full secret? Who protected it like it was his own?