Chapter Ten
After Dahlia had asked all her questions and cried all of her tears, she insisted that Harper and Grey stay for a meal. “I can cook. Ask anyone around here - I make some truly delicious food.”
The couple glanced at one another. They did like the idea of getting a good meal. Harper shrugged. “It’s getting late. I guess we could eat and crash here and then plan our next move in the morning.”
He nodded and they offered to help Dahlia in the kitchen. She gave them a little tour.
“My Marcus designed this little cooker for me. It runs on sunlight and cooks the food slowly, but it works just as well as the oven I used to have. Now, you flip this switch,” she reached to the side and to the back of her little machine, “and that gets it warmed up. Now Grey,” she turned to the only man in the kitchen and handed him a cutting board, “you’re going to be in charge of the sauce. Don’t look at me like that, I’ll walk you through it. Your little lady here is going to whip up the main dish and I’ll make dessert.”
Under Dahlia’s direction, they were cutting, whipping and baking in no time. The children cleaned up around them and then went out to run and play until dinner was ready. With the house a bit quieter, they were able to chat more openly.
“Harper,” Dahlia said, her eyes narrow, “what was it like growing up in that big palace on the mountain? Did you have jewels all over the place? What sort of food did you eat?”
She blushed a little as she organized their dinner casserole into a baking dish. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I was very lonely. I actually snuck out a few times with the help of a disguise. I even taught myself how to drive a car in secret to help me get away.” She stepped aside so that Grey could pour the smooth, green sauce on top of their food. Harper took a break and leaned against the counter. “I was actually pining after the life everyone had in the compound. I thought all the teenage shifters with their cave parties and neighbors, their lack of bodyguards was the best thing in the world. Of course, I didn’t understand how much everyone was struggling.”
“You know,” Grey broke in, scraping out the last of the sauce, “she was actually hiding out in the compound for a while. We managed to keep her a secret until I got her home.” He smiled at her. “That was the first time we kissed.”
She blushed and looked down. “Shut up, Grey.”
“I won’t.” He set his mixing bowl down to give her a little kiss on the lips. She giggled at him and kissed him back while Dahlia rolled her eyes on the other side of the kitchen.
“You kids,” she sighed, taking over Grey’s duty and putting the food in the oven. “All your energy and young love. I remember what it was like before my husband and I got married. It wasn’t until years later that I started wishing we’d never gone through with it, but I guess it’s alright.” She sighed and looked around the house. “I miss him now that he’s gone.”
The group walked over to the little seating area again. “What happened to him?” Harper asked.
“I don’t know,” Dahlia told her, shaking her head. “One day he went to work on some project the president had commissioned. It was a big dig that required some of the strongest, hardest working shifters. Well, we’re a family of jaguars, so we work. We’re fast, energetic and patient, a rare combination. Anyhow,” she adjusted her skirt underneath her, “my husband got chosen for the crew and that got us some extra pay. Not much, but a little. He went on time everyday, came home telling me about this giant hole they were digging, said no one knew why. Then, one day, he never came back.”
She fell silent, unable to look at Harper. The girl shook her head and looked at her lover Grey, who gave her a sad smile. Dahlia looked at the both with tired, empty eyes. “I don’t blame anyone. As far as I know, your dad had nothing to do with it. I just wish…” she looked out a window, not wanting to finish the thought.
“You just wish you could know what exactly happened to him,” Harper offered. “Because until you do, there’s always the chance that he’s alive.”
Dahlia nodded sadly, still looking away. Harper took a big breath and thought of the shifter boy, Emily’s brother, who had been killed by a human work crew leader because the man didn’t like his attitude. She knew that shifters were said to have “disappeared” or “died mysteriously” all the time when humans could just force them to work. It was likely Dahlia’s husband had done nothing wrong but for whatever reason a crew leader had terrorized him, possibly beat him, maybe forced him to shift and then taken a few shots at him. The whole thing turned her stomach.
“What was your husband’s name?”
Dahlia looked at her. “It was Al. Short for Alvin.” She smiled a little at the sound of his name. “He wasn’t a perfect man but he worked so hard. And he loved his kids.”
“I’m so sorry I didn’t get to meet him in person,” Harper said. “I’m sure we would have been friends.”
Dahlia stood and nodded. “Yes, I think so. Let me check on our food and make sure it’s cooking properly.”
She stepped away and in her absence Harper put her face in her hands. It was awful to hear stories from her own father’s regime. The violence, the disregard for shifter lives, the dark memories he had left as his legacy. She wondered if she would ever be able to move past it.
“Hey,” Grey whispered, squeezing her knee, “it wasn’t you. Don’t take that on. You had nothing to do with any of that. It was people who were short-sighted. You’re different. You’re the new generation of Bachmann.”
She didn’t respond, just took in his words without comment. Dahlia announced that their food would be ready in about twenty minutes and asked the two of them to go and collect the children. “Maybe you can get them to wash their hands? If so, I’ll be forever in your debt.”
Agreeing to get the children clean, they made their way outside and down to the base of the trees. They found the little ones playing a game of Stop/Go and broke up the fun.
Soon after, everyone was at the table and talking, laughing and eating together. The food was delicious; baked vegetables in an herb sauce with a fruit pie for dessert. It had been so long since Harper and Grey had tasted cooked food that they ate a little too fast at first. Once they saw that there was no space at the table for seconds, they slowed down as the children devoured their portions in big, desperate bites.
“Slow down, all of you!” Dahlia laughed. “I appreciate the sentiment, but goodness! Half of you are about to choke.”
As dinner came to a close, Dahlia folded her hands on the table and addressed her little ones. “Alright, my geniuses,” she said, “our friends have a problem on their hands. Who feels ready to help them solve it?”
Hands shot up all around the table as Harper did a double take. She wiped her mouth and sat up to pay attention.
“Okay,” the mother of the house continued, “here’s the problem. These two know who killed your brother, but they don’t know what to do about it. There’s no Law Enforcers here like there was in The City. There’s no jail. All that’s gone. And, there’s only two of them and Harper here is pregnant and needs to protect that little baby inside her.”
The children listened intently while Harper started to panic. Why was Dahlia asking her kids to weigh in on such a sensitive topic?
“You know what? This is crazy grown-up stuff. You kids don’t have to -” a chorus of groans cut her off.
“Why don’t adults let kids help more?” Lance demanded. “I’m smart. You should want to know what I think.”
The heads around the table nodded, eyebrows up and smug smiles all around to assure Harper that she would be missing out if she were to shut down the conversation.
“Okay. So, um, what do you kids think I should do about this murderer?”
All of them fell silent as they gazed off to think. They had some random questions for her - did she know if the killer had weapons? How many people were on his side? Where were they located? She and Grey answered as best they could, but in the course of their discussion the two realized they had sparse information to go by.
“You’re not ready to face the killer,” Mary told them in a stern voice. “You would be better of getting some people on your side. You have to be ready for anything.”
Hearing the words from a nine-year-old girl somehow made them extra threatening. If a child could see that, there was no way around it. They were walking into a trap.
“Well,” Harper said to the table, “it sounds like we do need some help.”
“Luckily for you both,” Dahlia informed them, “you are in the middle of some truly talented and formidable shifter community. Why don’t you two take a couple of days to get a team together and do this properly?”
“But do what?” Harper pressed. “What are we going to do when we catch this guy? My dad, I mean. Like you said, we can’t throw him in jail. We can’t call Law Enforcement. We can’t even kick him out - there’s nowhere to kick him out of.”
“What about The Alliance?” Dahlia asked, tilting her head to one side. “Maybe they have a good solution.”
“The Alliance?” She turned to her partner with her face screwed up. “What could they do?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, shrugging, “but she’s right. They’re a creative bunch. They seem to have a few things figured out. And Alex did say we were welcome back there anytime.”
“True.” Harper thought about, nodding. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. Over the next two days, Grey will stay here and get together a team to take out the murderer. In the meantime, I’ll head out to The Alliance and spend a day there and ask them to help me figure what to do with the guy once we catch him. Who knows? Maybe they can design some kind of jail or whatever.”
That last sentence earned her some shocked looks from around the table and she looked back in shock. “What?”
“You want someone to go to jail?” Pat asked her.
“Oh. Well, no. I just don’t know what the alternative would be.”
Little Katy piped up again from the other side of the table. “Every problem has more than one solution. That’s what Marcus said.”
Her sweet, confident voice made Harper smile. “Of course. Your brother was very smart, Katy. Just like you.”
“I know,” she said with a head tilt and everyone laughed.
After they all had their fill of dessert, the whole group pitched in to clean up their plates and the kitchen. The whole family had an order of chores that helped them do their part without getting in the way of the others in the group. Harper and Grey caught one another’s eye as the whole family became a large, functioning assembly line. This was a family. One day, they would have a little troupe of their own.
The night went on and soon clothing was pared down to basics for sleeping. Teeth were brushed and special blankets and toys were collected to keep any night terrors at bay while the little ones slept. Katy and Mary went to bed first as they were the youngest. The older boys were allowed to read a bit longer in the corner. Dahlia pulled her guests to the side for a moment.
“The only bed I have available is the one Marcus used,” she explained. “I would take it myself, but, well, I hope you’ll understand.”
They nodded. They would take the empty bed. She handed them some sheets and pillows and then excused herself, not quite ready to watch two strangers take her son’s place in his empty bed.
Grey was pulled away to read to the boys and Harper focused on making the bed. She was ready to gripe a bit about Grey not helping her, but she found the ritual of preparing a space for sleep rather soothing. She ran her hand on top of the first sheet, taking out the wrinkles and folds, then shook the pillows down into their covers and arranged them at the head of the mattress. She floated the last sheet on top and breathed in its clean, cottony scent. Her own sheets were getting old; she would have to ask the fabric workers for some new ones soon.
She lay down on her perfectly made space by herself and stared up at the bottom of another child’s bunk, taking in the craftsmanship and details of the wood. This one was made of salvaged pieces, likely from a boat or large table. Carved into it in small letters were the words “I’m here.” She was sure Marcus had left them there for someone to see. Someone he wanted to remember him long after he’d grown up and gone away to invent and explore.
“Hey,” Grey whispered, crawling into bed next to her. The bunk was much smaller than they were used to so they spooned together to save space. He pressed his lips to the back of her neck, a gesture that sent sparks all the way down her spine.
“Hey yourself.” In a low whisper, she added, “We’re guests here. We have to behave ourselves.”
“You man you have to behave yourself.” They giggled together and Harper closed her eyes as she settled her head down onto the pillow. A sigh escaped her and she rubbed her bare feet together, welcoming sleep.
“Do you really think we can do this?” Grey whispered.
“We don’t have much of a choice,” she answered in her half-conscious state. “We have to do something. The man is dangerous.”
“He’s also family.”
Her eyes snapped open. “I know who he is. I’m trying not to think about it.”
Grey didn’t answer, just kissed her shoulders and then her neck again by way of apology. She wasn’t truly angry with him, she just wished he didn’t feel the need to bring her bubbling thoughts to the surface like that. He was so good at finding exactly what she was afraid of and then pulling it out into the open.
She settled back into her original relaxed state and reminded herself that this exact quality was what made Grey such a wonderful partner. He always sought out the truth. He didn’t even let fears hide from him.
Her eyelids grew heavy and closed over her pupils. In the back of her mind, she could hear a voice she didn’t recognize calling to her.
As Harper slid down deeper into sleep, the voice got louder, but all she could hear were snippets of what it wanted to say. Something about fathers, someone new, a plan and a danger. She tried to answer, but in her dream she had no ability to speak. She saw herself tied to a tree and unable to free herself. Her arms struggled against the ropes just as her voice fought to find some kind of hold on her vocal chords. Nothing. So, she listened.
“Harper… his face.... Not who you think… danger… power… caution. You must…”
She woke with a gasp to the sight of a softly lit room. The sun was rising, but it was too early to get up. No reason to get the little ones up any sooner than normal.
The pregnant half-shifter looked back up at the words carved into the wood above her. “I’m here,” they reminded her. She shivered a little, no longer certain if that phrase had been carved by a boy still living or a ghost doing it’s best to keep her focused.