Kean

“Sorry?” he asked, bewildered. “What are you sorry for?”

To his surprise, Maddy’s face crumpled with dismay.

“For everything!” she said, the words starting to tumble out so fast it sounded like she was babbling. “For getting you involved in this in the first place. For convincing you and your brothers to come attack the Institute. For wasting all this bloody time on rescuing that, that…that ignorant asshole Raven. All of that was needless danger. We could have let him rot in there and accomplished so much more! I’m so stupid!”

She bit her lip suddenly at that and fell silent, the truth of her confession revealing itself to him at last.

“No, Maddy,” he said, pulling her in close to him even as she tried to step away. “One thing you absolutely aren’t is stupid.”

“But I thought Raven believed in our cause, in the fight. I sincerely thought he was fighting because he wanted to. Not because he thought he had a chance at getting in my pants!”

He frowned at the anger in her voice, the frustration.

“People can be extremely deceptive at times,” he pointed out. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not!” she snapped, and her hand slipped from within his grasp.

Frustrated, Kean tried hard to rein in his temper. “Why are you so upset over this?” he asked. “What am I missing?”

Madison didn’t respond at first. Instead she moved away from the fire pit, heading to the outer edge of the cleared area around the campsite, as far from the spot where Raven had gone into the trees as she could get. Kean instinctively followed her, hoping she wouldn’t keep trying to get away.

“Why are you so forgiving?” she asked as he came near.

“I’m being forgiving?” Now he was genuinely confused.

“I led you into incredible danger to rescue someone, who turned out to be just a giant turd. You risked your lives because of something I said, which turned out to be a lie. Yet you don’t seem angry about it.”

Kean shrugged. “Why should we be? It’s not your fault. You didn’t know.” He held up a hand to stop her from blasting herself some more. “You. Didn’t. Know,” he emphasized. “Besides, the points that you made that convinced us to go still apply.”

“They do?” she asked through the tears that slowly rolled down her face.

He reached up and wiped them away. Her eyes continued to run, but she wasn’t sobbing, just shedding tears that ran in tracks down her cheeks.

“They do. We’re still outlaws in Cadia. Without verifiable proof that we’ve changed, or done some sort of good deed, we still can’t go home. Just because buddy here was an asshole doesn’t change the fact that we still needed to rescue him. Now you know that we are trustworthy, and can be counted on if things get tough.”

Kean carefully didn’t mention how Kassian and Maximus had been tranq-ing several of the women until he and Pierce put a stop to that. Maddy didn’t need to know that. They would sort that out internally at a later date, when she wasn’t around.

Preferably with Gavin awake and on our side.

It might take a long time for Gavin to come around, but Kean would be ready for when it was time.

“I suppose I do know that,” she said quietly. “At least one side of this agreement has been honest and forthcoming.”

Kean froze at the self-chastisement. “What are you talking about?” he asked cautiously.

“Director Burnatawiz was right, you know,” she said softly. “I do know what’s going on there.”

He recalled the surprisingly sprightly wizened old man as he bragged that they couldn’t stop what the Institute had started.

“Does it have to do with all the women at that facility?” he asked.

Ever since his encounter with them, Kean had been unable to shake the idea that the women were inextricably linked to whatever master plan the Institute had going on. What he couldn’t seem to figure out though, was the how. The one woman he’d talked to briefly had claimed that they weren’t there against their will. That the women had all chosen to be there, to help save…someone. Who?

“Yes,” Madison admitted.

“I think you need to tell us everything.

She nodded weakly. “I’m not positive I know everything, but everything I do know, I’ll share with you now.”

Kean took her arm and guided her back over to the circle of thick logs that the brothers had dragged around the fire pit to act as benches to sit upon.

“Listen up,” he said sharply, leaving it at that.

Eyes swiveled to him, and then to Madison as she opened her mouth and slowly began to speak.

“The Institute started out as a think tank. A facility where several brilliant minds all gathered and began to play out various scenarios using data and prior experience. It was founded in the late 1960s by Aaron Bothwell and James Ingrim. They were tasked to figure out how the growth spurt going on in shifter strongholds was going to affect humanity.”

Kean leaned in closer. He’d never heard of such a thing before, and was curious how it had morphed into what it was now.

“Things ran along, the members of the tank trying to plot out various scenarios on how a growing number of shifters would remain isolated from humanity, or if they would want to integrate. Many different anthropologists and other cultural, historical, and social-minded scientists were consulted along the way. The project grew larger and larger.”

She paused, looking up. “About fifteen years ago Brandon Burnatawiz was appointed Director of the Institute. He had been working there for some time, but when he became Director, he also became obsessed with power. That led him to his current set of beliefs.”

“Which are?” Kean prompted when Madison fell silent, head bowed, her blonde hair cascading forward over her shoulders.

“That eventually, between declining birth rates amongst humans, increasing ones amongst shifters—thanks to the peace you have had these past two centuries—and your longer lifespans, you will have the numbers to rise up and overthrow humans. You will supplant us as the majority, and eventually eradicate us from earth. Like early homo sapiens did to the Neanderthals.”

Kean stared at her, slack-jawed. “He thinks we’re going to commit a genocide?”

“No no no,” Maddy said, waving her hands. “It’s all math to him, all science. It’s a natural progression, not done out of violence. It just simply will happen. It’s inevitable. You’ll overpopulate us and push us out until we’re extinct.”

“Oh,” Kean said, sitting down heavily at last. “I see.”

Madison arched an eyebrow. “So, now that he’s paranoid of shifters and in power, Director Burnatawiz went to work convincing others of his viewpoints. Select officials in the government, military, private sector, etcetera. Until he was able to draw on an insane amount of wealth and power to do whatever was necessary to protect the human race. He transformed the Institute from a think tank to an organization tasked with preserving human life in any way he could.”

“So he’s going to commit genocide first, then that’s his plan? Get to it before we do?” Kean asked, stunned at what he was hearing.

“What?” Madison said, looking over at him. “No, not at all. At least, not in the way you mean. Yes, he intends for shifters to die out, but he has no intentions of it being done violently. Remember, he’s all about the math and science. Not violence. He’s just following the trail of numbers he thinks he sees.”

“Good for him,” Pierce said. “But I’m not following him, or you. Now what’s his plan then?”

“Instead of letting you grow in numbers and integrate things your own way, he’s doing it his way. In a controlled setting. Where he can build huge numbers of converts and followers who believe what he’s doing will help all sides prevent conflict.” She shook her head. “In the world we live in now, so many of the young people our age will do anything to avoid conflict, trying to appease all parties, without realizing that they may be doing more harm than good this time. He’s playing on their desires, but he’s lying to them.”

“I still don’t get it,” Kassian said. “Just spit it out.”

“Half-breeds,” she said heavily.

Kean frowned as he tried to make sense of what Madison was saying. Half-breeds weren’t all that common. The number of shifter-human sexual interactions just wasn’t that high. Most of the shifter territories were off-limits to humans, and shifter travel into human-occupied areas was frowned upon. A shifter unaccustomed to life in a big city could go crazy, as he and his brothers had experienced firsthand on their escape from the Institute facility.

That didn’t mean they didn’t exist, however. It all depends on the coupling, on which half of it was shifter and which half was human. If the male was a shifter, and the female human—the most common, to his limited knowledge—then the child stood a good chance of being a half-breed. Blessed with some of the genetics of the shifter, and some of that of their human ancestry. Only on rare occasion would a full shifter child manifest from such a union. Often it was just things such as a better immune system, somewhat faster healing, perhaps more natural athletic abilities. Nothing to make them superhuman like shifters, but definitely setting them above the human average.

On the other hand, if a male human mated with a female shifter, the result was almost always a full-blown shifter. Half-breeds or pure human children were incredibly rare. Unheard of, in fact.

“I...I’m not sure I follow,” he said at last, noticing similar looks on his brothers’ faces.

“He wants to forcefully integrate shifter DNA into the human bloodstream,” she said. “He’s probably building more camps like this one. Women will be brought in and impregnated by shifters. If their child is a half-breed, mission accomplished, they get a bit of money, and bye-bye.”

“Okay, so?” Maximus snapped. “Why should we give a shit?”

“Because,” Madison said, her voice hard. “I wasn’t finished. If the child is a male shifter, they will be kept in the facilities, these breeding camps, until old enough to reproduce. Then they will be forced to mate with human women. If the child is a female shifter, they’ll be sterilized, or killed. I don’t know his plan for them.”

Kean was staring at her in horror. The idea of sterilization was abhorrent to shifters. To a shifter, children were a gift more precious than gold to a dragon. They were to be revered and cherished. Not all shifters were interested in having children, just like humans, but they still understood the value of offspring to the culture as a whole.

“Once he has enough camps open,” Madison continued, “He plans to start annexing the shifter strongholds. Bringing you all into the fold. He will turn you into nothing more than breeders. You will live out your lives in these camps, until you’re all dead, and the shifter DNA is the most prevalent one in human society. It’s just a game of numbers to him,” she said numbly. “Eventually he’ll have enough, and you shifters won’t.”

She looked up, and he saw the haunting knowledge in her face that what she’d just said was true.

“Why didn’t you tell us this beforehand?” Mila asked calmly. “I knew something was up, but I never suspected an atrocity like this. And who do you work for? You still haven’t told us that.”

Kean understood though. He reached out and took Maddy’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Her head came up, eyes hopeful as they looked at him.

“I know why,” he said softly. “Because we wouldn’t have been able to restrain ourselves during the raid. We would have gone berserk, and probably all been captured, or worse, as we tried to tear the place down to the ground around us.”

Looking around, he saw the knowledge in each of his brothers’ eyes, even Kassian and Maximus. They all knew he was speaking the truth. It would have been a disaster.

“You did the right thing,” he told her. “Don’t feel bad.”

Maddy smiled weakly. “I’ll try.”

“But,” he added. “I would like to know who you work for.”

“Right,” she said, strength slowly returning to her voice, even as blood began to flow back into her face. “I work for a group that used to be part of the Institute. They diverged with it back when Burnatawiz was appointed director, and have been actively working against him ever since.” She shrugged. “We don’t really have a name for ourselves, to be honest with you. We’ve never really needed one. You were either with the Institute, or against it. There were no shades of gray.”

“How did he get the shifters to work for him though?” he wondered. “Those guys we fought definitely put up a hell of a fight.”

“I’m not sure,” Madison said.

Mila spoke up. “I think I know.”

The others turned to look at her. She shrugged off the attention though. “They think they’re doing the right thing. Just like I did.”

Kean abruptly recalled then that she’d worked for the Institute for several years, until she’d decided that it was not a good organization. She’d betrayed it to rescue Pierce and help him set Kean and the others free from the Institute’s clutches. Mila was a good person though; she’d just gotten caught up in things, not recognizing what was happening right away.

“If it can happen to you,” Pierce said, pulling her in tight to him. “Then it can happen to anyone. Even those shifters from Kronum.”

Kean nodded. He’d come to the conclusion too that the shifters they’d faced had come from the small shifter territory way to the east.

“Do you suppose he’s completely annexed Kronum already?”

“I think he has,” Madison said. “I don’t know for sure, but when I check in with the others, I’ll ask them if they know, and we’ll get someone to find out one way or another.”

“We need to find a way to let Cadia know. They’re going to be best prepared to deal with this,” he said. “We need to get a message to them.”

Maximus stood up. “I’ll go.”

Kean arched an eyebrow. “What?”

“I said, I’ll go,” Maximus repeated. “I’ll go back, and let them know what’s going on out here.”

“They’ll send you to prison,” Kean said, wondering what was going on with his brother to inspire the sudden shift.

“I know. But this is more important. Maybe I can convince them to send you backup.”

Kean knew Maximus wasn’t just changing his tune that easily. But he was right; Cadia needed to know. Their homeland had to be ready, and to start formulating a way to stop the Institute if the rest of them failed.

“Okay,” he said. “Thank you.”

Maximus nodded. “I’ll leave in the morning. It’ll probably take me a week to get back there.”

Kean nodded, and the others gave their consent as well. He noticed Pierce looking oddly at Maximus as well, trying to figure out what his plan was.

Somehow, he wasn’t sure he’d find out until it was too late. His mind wandered away from that, back to the Institute and its purpose.

How were they supposed to fight something like that?

He didn’t know.

Maddy leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, then moving in close when he put his arm around her and pulled her tight. She was nervous, he could tell. Not about him, but about what the future held.

They were all nervous.