He wasn’t looking at his hand anymore. He was looking into the past. Every painful moment of it. “He always made sure that while the worst of it was going down, he was seen somewhere else. So that even if someone did dare to mention they thought they were being followed by creatures that disappeared into thin air, or their homes and businesses were trashed but there was no sign of a break in, doors and windows still locked tight, people would think they were crazy. And if the authorities did think there was something to it, there wouldn’t be any proof Parker was involved. Not when he had been busy at a charity function or filming an interview about his not-for-profit work.” Bitterness tightened his throat. “He always got away with it. Whatever he wanted, he took.”
“And you couldn’t go to the authorities? Even here there are a few shifters in the police. They can’t put it in the official books, but they help when shifters are using their shapeshifting abilities to break the law.”
“Would they believe the rest of it? Even shifters have trouble accepting what we can do.” Fleance knew he sounded defeated. He felt defeated. Remembering his past was like pulling on an old coat that was perfectly worn into the shape of his body. He’d managed to shake it off for a few brief years, but now… “We could have shown people what we could do, but Parker had thought of that, too. He made sure we behaved. Forced us to keep our powers secret. And eventually…”
He looked down at his hands. “I want to say that I fought him all the way. But I didn’t. I told you I’m not blameless. I had more chance than any of the others to fight back, and I never acted. You need to know that. I’m no hero. That’s Caine, my alpha. I’m just…” His shoulders sank. “Here to try to do what’s right, for once in my life.”
When he forced himself to look at her, she didn’t look convinced. He took another mouthful of the paint-stripping wine and squared his shoulders. “I’ll explain from the beginning. Maybe then you’ll understand.”
“Maybe.” She looked troubled.
“When I was eighteen, my parents died in a car crash,” he began, and Sheena jerked.
“Jeez! I mean—sorry.” She stumbled over her words, but the swell of light down the mate bond told Fleance everything she wanted to say. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “It was a long time ago—”
“Still.”
“Still,” he echoed her. “Thank you. But that’s not—important. It’s just to set the scene, so that you understand what happens next.” As though his life was a screenplay, where every page of action made sense. He swallowed. “I’d just moved out of home. The last thing my parents and I did before I left for college was pack up all the shit in my room—my uncle was coming to stay while he was in town for business, and Dad joked that if he did his own laundry they might just keep him, and I could fend for myself over the break.
“I got the call in the middle of my first class. I hadn’t even unpacked my bags. There’d been an accident…”
He broke off. “I didn’t hear the details. Or I don’t remember. I still don’t know if anyone actually told me exactly what happened, or how, just… It didn’t matter, anyway. I couldn’t stop thinking about that last joke my Dad made. Then I was home again, and they were both dead, and the only reason I wasn’t left to fend for myself was that Uncle Angus was staying, after all. He managed all the—the legal stuff. I tried to go back to college, but I couldn’t cope. Mom and Dad had given up so much so I could get into a good school, and I couldn’t even finish my first year.”
“No one could blame you for that.”
“I could. I couldn’t not blame myself. What happened to my parents was so random, so unexplainable, I thought at least if I could blame myself for something I could have controlled, I’d…” He shook his head. “I don’t know what I thought. It felt like it made sense at the time.”
He should be angry at his past self, he knew that. But those days were the last he’d had as himself. He’d been young and stupid and thoughtless—and human.
Inside him, his hellhound shivered and whined softly.
“And at the same time as all that was happening… My uncle was there. No matter what was falling apart, he was there for me. Maybe I should have been more suspicious of that, but I was just glad to have anybody. I’d only met him a few times before. A couple of Thanksgivings, a summer holiday when I was in elementary school. Mom said he was always too busy with work to be around much, but he was the only family I had left and when he stepped in, I thought it was just because that’s what family does.” Fleance paused. He’d never talked about any of this and now, it seemed too easy. The words kept coming, slipping out as thought they had a life of their own. “He arranged for my parents’ home to be sold, gave me a place to live in a new city, and… offered me a place in the
