The one to my right produced a pair of handcuffs that he clicked tightly around my wrists, binding my arms high up on my back. His partner had his own cuffs and used them to chain me to the furnace under the window. When the councilperson came, I'd look just like what I was claiming to be: a criminal.
"You look good in chains," Delia said. "I wonder if Sean Roberts will think the same."
Sean Roberts? The only Sean I knew—
My eyes widened along with Delia's smile.
"You've heard of him? I think your Kansas calls him Uncle Sean? He'll be here within the hour, and then you'll get what you asked for, Wyatt. Everything will go back to normal."
Chapter Twenty
Kansas
"Do you have soy milk?" Badger asked.
We'd learned since Wyatt disappeared to help Paul that the nomads all had animal names. I didn't think they were their real names as much as they were aliases. Badger was an angry-looking man with close cropped black hair and a scar that ran from his right temple, following the line of his jaw to the other side. Maybe the scar was why he always looked like he was scowling, but his voice had been friendly and polite.
"I have almond," Aver said.
Badger shrugged. "Better than cow. That stuff makes me gassy."
Aver poured Badger—the man wearing torn blue jeans, a black leather vest, and nothing else—a glass of almond milk.
He sniffed the contents, then tipped the cup back, chugging the glass. He wiped his mouth. "Ah. That's good."
Someone was running toward the house from outside.
"Incoming." Camel turned toward the window.
I didn't know why they called him Camel. Or why the leader was Mongoose. And other than Badger, these guys didn't seem very willing to do much more but stand there and look menacing.
Paul ran down the shore, turning up the slope to the patio door.
Just Paul. Alone.
Nash shouted my name, and one of the biker nomads tried to grab me, but I ducked under his arms, sprinting outside and meeting Paul before he reached the patio.
"Where is Wyatt? Where is he?"
Paul stopped short. "Kansas?"
"Where is Wyatt?"
The others had joined us by now. The nomads, Aver, Nash, and Nana stood around me like bodyguards.
"What happened, Paul?"
"I'm not sure, but I think Wyatt went to Delia. He said he would fix everything."
"And you let him?" I snarled. Then I looked at Paul's face and realized I didn't have the monopoly on caring for Wyatt. I knew the man as well as Paul. If he wanted to go, he would have gone. If he thought there was a chance of protecting me, he would've done it in a second. "I'm sorry. I know you don't control him, and it isn't your job to babysit him."
"Except now one of us has to go in and break him free. I'm going to kick his ass when I rescue him." Nash cracked his knuckles.
"If the situation has changed," Mongoose said, "then me and my men will get moving. Is anyone coming?"
There wasn't anyone that could go. Phin and Riley couldn't leave their children, and the infants couldn't be transported on the bikes safely. All of the Walkers' vehicles had been destroyed. The nomads had come here for nothing.
Wait, not nothing. Badger had a glass of almond milk.
"Do any of you have contact with a shifter doctor?" Nana asked.
My stomach sunk. I didn't want to know where this line of questioning was going. I clamped my right arm tightly to my front, scratching at the elbow before I realized what I was doing and forced my fingers to stop.
"For the blessed birth?" Mongoose asked, nodding toward me.
Could I be called blessed when I never turned into a shifter? "I'm not leaving."
Nana grabbed both my hands and gave me her warmest, most motherly smile. In that second, I hated her for it. A mother's comfort wasn't something I'd ever experienced. My uncle's family certainly didn't fill the role. Despite being my biological relatives, they were all too afraid to interact with me. Most days, only my uncle would talk to me, and that was mostly to tell me who he planned on bringing over next. He used me to take the fight out of people—make them docile—so that he could more easily achieve whatever was his goal. If I did well, I got treated well.
If I didn't…
I didn't.
And now it felt like Nana, a woman I'd come to trust, was using that affection as a weapon.
"We only care for you, boy," Nana said with a hard edge that made me feel like she could see right into my mind.
My bitter, paranoid thoughts came to a halt. I was quick to attribute her love to something sinister, but really, Nana cared for me in the same way Wyatt did. Each of them seeing me as something that needed to be kept, managed, maintained. When disaster struck, like right now, I was the one who needed to be coddled, not turned to for help. My chin dropped, and I nodded.
"We have a connection, but we have to leave now," Mongoose said. "Is he coming?"
Is he coming? I'd never felt more useless in front of so many people who cared for me.
"I'll go," I whispered before a thought struck that made my throat tight. "Mr. Boots will have to stay. He hates motorcycles. I need to grab my jacket and a few things." I turned away, taking the path very slowly and carefully back to the house.
Before I went inside, I heard Nash whisper, "This doesn't feel right, Nana."
I agreed. Nothing had felt right since Wyatt had left to watch over Paul. A part of me had known then that he wouldn't come back, but I hadn't listened to that part of me. I'd been too afraid it was paranoia. I couldn't trust myself or my thoughts. That was the great curse. My ability made me doubt every waking moment. But I was getting better, not just because of Wyatt and his magic dick, but by being around people who cared for me, for Mr. Boots. Who loved me. They'd given me stability.
I grabbed a bag, throwing in a few essentials without really thinking about what. When I grabbed my jacket, the nomads were waiting, ready to whisk me away to a secure location where I could have my baby cut from me because I'd yet to turn into a shifter.
"We stashed our bikes down the road," Mongoose said, looking at my pregnant belly like he understood just how clumsy it made me.
"I'll carry him," Nash offered.
I put my hand up. "I'll walk." I could do at least that much. I'd keep up.
Thankfully, it wasn't a long hike. I was still huffing and puffing by the time we got there, but I hadn't slowed them up too much. At some point, they'd decided I would ride with Camel, I thought maybe because he had the biggest seat.
"I've never crashed," Camel said, handing me a helmet.
That probably should have reassured me, but it only made me think he was due for one any day now. I slid the helmet over my head and got on the back, looking over my shoulder to Nash, Aver, and Nana. "Can one of you please feed Mr. Boots? The second this baby is delivered, I'm coming back."
"Of course, dear," Nana said. "And we'll have Wyatt back home by then. I promise."
A promise from Nana was worth its weight in gold, but hearing it didn't lift my spirits. "Okay." My voice shook. I didn't want them to see my tears, so I turned my face toward Camel's leather-clad back. Even with the bigger seat, it was a tight fit, and the moment he rolled us forward, I slipped back. My arms wrapped around his waist to keep from falling. I was only holding the man to keep from slipping off the back of his bike, but it felt wrong. I held another man while my… my Wyatt was somewhere on pack lands, taking the blame for everything.