Chapter 3

Poisonous thoughts echoed in his head while Chance stood alone on the porch. White light forced his eyes shut and he lifted his hand to shield the sun. He took deep lungful’s of air, his breath billowing out in thick steam clouds. With each inhalation, his rapid heartbeat began to slow. Bloody memories and the sensation that he had large blank periods of time over the last month haunted him.

When he was alone it was worse, but he still wasn’t comfortable being around Ana’s friends. It took too much energy to try to appear normal, or to be something he wasn’t. He didn’t want to be himself around strangers, whoever that was. It was as if he’d been tossed in a blender with different personalities.

Chance eased his eyes open, adjusting to the bright morning light and braced his hands on the porch rail. A carpenter ant marched up the wooden beam beside him, oblivious to the world around it. Chance watched it move with purpose, a singular, tiny being amongst a colony of many. Would the rest of its family miss it if it never returned home? Chance swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.

Calm yourself. Find your center.

He nodded to no one but himself. He needed to stop spinning off on subjects that weren’t in the here and now. He should be focused on Batukhan, who would be returning with Mac any time. Outside of the fact he didn’t know what to say to Mac, a shapeshifter who’d seemed friendly upon appearance from what he remembered (which was fuzzy at best), he’d been avoiding Batukhan over the last few days as well, keeping to his or Ana’s rooms. Chance had been able to clear up the confusion about why he’d attacked them the other night—he hadn’t been himself when the wicked and powerful personality that took control of him steered him toward Ana at any cost.

The guilt pained him. He couldn’t take it any longer. While he struggled with his “illness” over the last month, the only thing that seemed to calm him was returning to animal form. It had helped quiet the other voices in his head and take him back to his basic instincts, something he could rely on.

He moved off the porch and onto the rock pathway. Without pausing, he unzipped his pants and peeled off his T-shirt. Brown fur erupted down his arms and legs and he groaned in relief. His body expanded, towering over the icy ground.

The troublesome emotions that clouded his mind moments earlier fell away and he was now simply a bear standing on a snowy mountainside. One paw stepped in front of the other and he found himself at the top of the path. He wandered across the driveway, past the large outbuilding that held Lifen’s animals. The various smells filled his nose and he moved on, disinterested.

Chance stared out at the white peaked mountains and the frozen lake at the base of the valley. The steep decline would be slow going, but he needed to stretch his legs and clear his mind. It was quiet here, which he may have enjoyed before he contracted the sickness, but now it only pained him. Nothing to distract him from his own emotions. Maybe he should have stayed in the house, if only to listen to someone else speaking.

He’d go back soon, he decided. He proceeded in a horizontal line down the mountain. If there were any way to avoid Ana’s questions and persistent stare, he would take it, but there seemed no way around them. He knew it was fueled by her love of him, but the things he’d seen, heard and nearly done were the epitome of evil. How could he tell her? He knew he’d changed. But it wasn’t for the better. She deserved more.

An icy rock tripped him and he flipped down the slippery face. He relaxed his body and settled against a cluster of boulders. Prostrate with his head downhill, he lay still, staring into the sky. Clearly his mind hadn’t taken a vacation in bear form. Was there no getting away from his worries?

Totally lost in thought and not paying attention to his surroundings, he heard soft rustling from nearby. Chance tilted his head to look in the direction from where it originated only to see a large gray wolf and a massive Sasquatch with small packs strung across their backs. His heart rattled in a nervous rhythm while he observed them staring at him. He felt their combined power emanating and knew Batukhan had returned with Mac.

Without knowing what to do, he figured the best thing was to shift back. Although he’d thought about them returning he hadn’t settled on what to do or say. Now that the moment was here he’d have to wing it. It didn’t require much focus or energy to return to his human form.

Chance righted himself and sat in the snow. Keeping his eyes to the ground, he said, “Welcome back, Batukhan.” He combed his fingers through his shaggy, black hair and added, “Hey, Mac.”

An awkward silence fell and he waited for one of them to do something. After a few minutes passed, the Sasquatch started up the mountain with the wolf on its tail. Chance swallowed and stared at the place they’d been standing.

A groan echoed. He turned to see the Sasquatch beckoning at him with its long, hairy arm, which was quite a sight in itself. Relieved, he stood slowly, his purpose not to startle or behave in a way that might concern the elder shifters. He knew that he would have to earn their trust and respect. If at all possible.

He followed in their footprints all the way to the front door of Lifen’s house. Chance put on the clothing that he’d shed at the bottom of the walkway. They were cold and a little stiff with ice, but he didn’t care.

The packs that Batukhan and Mac had been carrying fell to the wooden decking of the porch when they shifted back to human form. They dug out some clothing and put it on. Mac pulled his long, black hair out from under the trim of the Canucks jersey he’d been wearing the last time Chance had seen him…lying unconscious in the snow. He noticed Chance watching him and nodded in his direction, not uttering a word. This was nowhere near the warm welcome he’d received at his cave a few days ago. Chance hoped that wasn’t a bad sign.

Batukhan’s sturdy, tall form dwarfed both Mac’s and Chance’s. White cotton pants and a thin T-shirt were all he wore, which was more than enough for a shapeshifter his age. Body temperature regulating wasn’t an issue. His narrow eyes turned to his friend and he said, “Please come in, Mac. Lifen is expecting us.”

He opened the front door for Mac and Chance waited for them both to enter before he joined them on the grass mats of the entryway.

“Please wait here so I may get our hostess,” Batukhan uttered before walking barefoot down the hallway in the direction of the meditation room.

Chance was afraid to say anything, so he simply stood in silence beside Mac while they waited. Mac, however, began humming a repetitive tune while he peered curiously up and down the length of the house.

A bustle of movement sounded before everyone was seen. Lifen and Batukhan were in the forefront and Lifen offered her hand to Mac in greeting. “I am Lifen. Welcome to my home, Mac. I have been told so much about you.”

Mac’s teeth shined bright between his lips when he answered, “Thank you for having me, Lifen. I have heard my share about the beautiful goddess Batukhan has pledged himself to. I hear a happy ending came out of all of this.”

A soft blush touched Lifen’s cheeks. Batukhan wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her temple. She said, “Yes, a few happy endings have come from all of this. Well, I do not want to appear rude at all, but I have been waiting for you so I may take my leave. I do hope we will have the opportunity to get to know each other more upon my return, but there is something that I must attend to. Jordan?” She waved him forward. “Could you show Mac to one of the spare rooms downstairs? And then once he is settled, please offer him some food and drink. I wish you will all introduce yourselves to Mac, as he will be one of your instructors while I’m away.”

Mac stepped forward. “Actually, I don’t want to trouble you at all staying in your house. I’d feel more at home sleeping outside.”

His statement appeared to confuse Lifen. “But there’s snow—it is very cold out at night—wouldn’t you prefer a warm, soft bed?”

With a shake of his head, Mac answered, “My preference is a sleeping bag in a snow cave. If you have one for me to use I can make a burrow nearby.”

“Very well,” Lifen said, “Jordan, would you go get a sleeping bag for him from storage? And whatever else our guest requests.”

Jordan’s eyes widened and watered slightly. He cleared his throat and motioned for Mac to follow him. “Please come with me.”

Ana wandered into the entryway and she passed Mac as he was led away. His wide gaze lingered on her before he disappeared down the hallway. Ana observed him go in silence. Once he was gone, she went to Chance’s side and looked in his eyes as if she were searching for something. He tried to avoid her piercing stare. He knew she would eventually find out about what he’d done to Batukhan and Mac, but he wasn’t ready to admit it just yet.

“We will be right back,” Lifen said. “Batukhan is going to help me prepare for my departure.”

They both went down the shadowy hallway. Derek was left standing beside them. He clapped and rocked around on the balls of his feet. “If she’s not packing anything, what do you think he’s going to help her with?” he said with a wink.

Ana nudged Derek’s shoulder. “Watch it. You’re beginning to sound like Ryan.”

They both fell silent and Chance felt himself grow jealous of the elusive Ryan. He was almost happy Ryan had decided to leave. But as he observed her crestfallen expression, he could see how she cared about her new friends and regretted his hateful thoughts.

Chance cleared the gravel from his throat and said, “Where’s she going?”

Derek answered without looking directly at him. “Not sure, but she’s leaving for a couple weeks. What’s up with Mac and sleeping outside? I look forward to becoming eccentric shifter when I grow old too. Anyway, what do you think Batukhan and this new guy are going to teach us while she’s gone?”

Ana shrugged and looked at Chance. “You traveled with Batukhan. Did he teach you anything while you guys hung out?”

Chance answered, “He didn’t really teach me any new shifter skills while we were together.”

It was all Batukhan could do to keep Chance contained. He couldn’t imagine what Batukhan thought of him. Would he even want to train him?

“How did you guys meet anyway?” Ana asked casually, but he could tell she was holding her breath. At any mention of their time apart he grew irritable. Remembering everything was the last thing he wanted to do.

He decided to give a little. “In Mexico. He knew Balam.”

Ana’s eyes widened and she breathed out, “Really? He knew him? Do you know how they met?”

“I never asked. I was too preoccupied.”

Ana bit her cheek. He could tell she was second guessing about asking anything else. He was glad. He didn’t like any of these questions. They were making him even more unhappy. He’d had enough.

Derek looked between the both of them and rested his hand on Ana’s shoulder. “Say, I’m gonna go make nice to the new guy. Let me know if you need me?”

Ana gave a slight nod and watched him walk down the hallway. When they were alone, she didn’t seem to know what to do. Her gaze fell on him and then down the hallway toward her room. Chance was angry and annoyed. He didn’t know how to switch it off. At this rate she’d want to back out of the wedding in no time. If he could just be himself, be the guy she fell in love with. Only problem was, he didn’t know if he knew how to anymore.

“Want to come with me to the meditation room? It might be good for you…” Ana swept her hair off her shoulder and looked away.

“I don’t want to be here with everyone, it makes me…” He couldn’t find the words to continue and ended with, “I need to be alone so I don’t hurt your feelings any more than I have.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned outside again. He pulled the door shut behind him and felt the wintry air bite at his cheeks and ears. This time he shifted into a bird and flew to a distant tree. The house was within sight of his perch, but he wasn’t close enough to bother anyone.

He sat there long enough with the wind rustling his chest feathers to see Lifen exit the home with everyone following behind. Jordan pulled an SUV out of the garage and onto the driveway. Lifen climbed into the driver’s seat after waving goodbye and drove away.

Jordan stood on the icy driveway, staring at the ghost of her taillights, until Batukhan clapped him on the shoulder and guided him back to the house. Chance watched Ana scan the horizon before following Derek inside.

Mac remained on the driveway, however, his nose lifted in the air. He stared in Chance’s direction and in a flash, his clothes crumpled onto the ground. A small silhouette took to the skies and flew directly toward Chance’s hiding place. He fidgeted in place, watching the bird get closer.

Relief set in when the creature landed on the ground below him. The crow peered up into the boughs, its beady black eyes reflecting the white snow around it. Its onyx feathers brushed against the ground, sending a spray of glittering ice into the air. Chance held still as if there were hope of not being found. He thought Mac had given up after a minute because everything grew quiet, but when he looked down again, a tall, dark haired man was staring up at him.

“Hey, Chance. I know you’re up there. You don’t have to answer, but I do want you to listen. Batukhan asked me to come here to help you. He told me about the events from the other night following my unscheduled nap. The details make everything more curious to me. I’m not so sure it was only the shifter sickness you were suffering from. I have to say, I don’t hold you responsible for bludgeoning me and if you’d allow me, I’d like to help you through your recovery. We can work in private—we don’t have to let anyone else know what you’re going through if you want.” Mac rested his hand against the trunk of the tree and stared at the lake in the basin below. His voice softened. “I’ve met Ana. She must be powerful if she was able to cure your sickness. It’d be a shame not to fight as hard as you can for your life together. Finding a mate who can understand you as well as she does is a gift. I’d remind you not to turn your back on her.”

Mac didn’t wait for Chance to respond, but took to the skies once again as a crow and flew back to Lifen’s house. His distant human shape walked along the zigzag walkway and disappeared through the front door.

Chance wasn’t quite prepared to return. He needed time to digest what Mac had said. Mac’s forgiveness meant a lot to him, but what Chance fixated on was the suggestion that he’d been affected by more than the shifter sickness.

Chance remained on his solitary branch and watched the sun arc through the sky. Other birds flew through the air and a small hare hopped down the slope below him. The quietude and peacefulness helped soothe his anxiety.

Movement drew his attention. A line of people walked from Lifen’s house, across the driveway and to the large outbuilding that housed the animals. Batukhan lead them in and Jordan, Derek and Ana followed behind. Ana trailed slowly, turning her head in every direction before being called inside.

There was one missing from the group. Mac had not accompanied them, which meant he was waiting for Chance inside. Without anyone else to overhear or judge, Chance was ready to take this important first step. He opened his wings and dropped forward off the branch. Air currents collected under his feathers, carrying him upward. Although flying wasn’t his favorite thing and he still felt awkward doing it, he could appreciate the freedom it offered. It only took him a minute to return to his freezing pile of clothes on the front porch. He put them on and slipped in through the front door.

He waited for his eyes to adjust to the lower light. When he could see more than bright shapes, he spotted a man sitting with his back to him in the living room. Long black hair covered his shoulders. Chance walked over and joined him on the floor. He sat cross-legged and stared out the expansive windows instead of looking at Mac.

“Couldn’t stay away, I see. I promise to help you, but when it comes to my secret recipe of Three Sister’s Soup, I will take that to my grave. The story behind it, however, you will have to sit through if you’re ever honored with the occasion.”

He felt Mac’s soft brown eyes on him while he spoke. There was something disarming about him. Maybe it was his sense of humor or lighthearted attitude, but Chance had a hard time remaining serious.

“So, where do we start?” Chance muttered.

“With a good chicken stock, but you’re not getting anything else out of me. But, if you are finally ready to start recovering from the scars of your affliction then we can begin right now.” Mac placed a box of matches in Chance’s hand and pointed to a thick candle that sat in the middle of the coffee table in front of them. He asked, “Will you light the candle?”

Chance pulled a wooden matchstick out, lit it and touched it to the wick of the white candle.

“Are we going to start chanting now?” Chance asked and blew out the match.

Mac smiled and said, “Not unless you want to. Whatever you think will make you feel better. Right now, it appears being cranky is what you’re going with. But I’m not sure it’s really making you feel better. Want to go with your method, or should we try something else?”

Chance sighed and pressed his fingers against the ridge of his nose. He needed to control his attitude. The moment he woke up that morning, he’d gotten off on the wrong foot. He wasn’t sure if Mac would be able to help him become the man he once was, but he wanted to try. Staying angry wasn’t an option.

“Sorry.”

Mac smiled. “Great start. I don’t assume you remember everything since you got the sickness. You likely have periods of time that are black, a common issue when another’s energy merges with your own.”

“I thought you said there could’ve been more to everything than just the shifter sickness. What did you mean?”

“We’ll come to that. But first, do you recall visiting me a couple days ago?”

Chance thought back to when Batukhan had led him through the Canadian wilderness until they’d caught Mac’s scent. He’d appeared as a Sasquatch and led them to his outdoor camp. Chance knew he’d hit him on the head with a thick branch and knocked him out, something that Mac had apparently forgiven him for.

Chance nodded. “I remember meeting you and . . . hurting you.”

“Do you remember what I had you do before a voice in your head thought it was a good idea to bludgeon your host? Do you remember sitting at the fire?”

Disjointed memories filtered through his thoughts. His throat burned and he recalled being offered a cool, translucent drink while he warmed himself at the fire. Batukhan had sat beside him, watchful and silent as Mac spoke to him. Chance ventured a glance at Mac now, and was reminded of him lying unconscious in the snow. He slid his lids shut. It was too uncomfortable thinking about his cruelty. Why was Mac making him remember?

“Chance?”

“Did you get me drunk?” He mumbled.

Mac raised his eyebrow and turned. “I gave you a fermented drink that helped me guide you to release the voices in your head. Do you remember?”

Chance had no interest in thinking about any of it. His life had been hijacked for a month and he’d done too many things he was ashamed of. He remained silent and stared out the window. Mac’s eyes were on him; he could feel them trace over his face and bore into him.

“My mother is the one who gave me my powers. She was a healer. We were very close and I cherished her like no other. As powerful as my mother was, her abilities couldn’t keep her from dying in an ambush. For a long time I was angry that I hadn’t been there to save her. Anger is a poison that can affect more than the one who holds it. Choosing to let it go is one of the hardest things you can do, but it will set you free.”

Chance jumped up, his muscles tight. He pointed his finger in Mac’s face and snarled. “I’m not the angry one! It was that psycho who pushed me to do everything I did! It was him, not me, who wanted to hurt everyone I met! It was that damned voice!”

Blood rushed to his head and pounded behind his temples. Mac stared at him, ignoring Chance’s finger that was inches from his nose. Chance dropped his hand, but felt like punching something hard. He thought about going back outside and finding a solid tree trunk to pummel. As he considered what would be most pleasing to do, he stopped to glare at Mac, who was still peering at him. “What?!”

“I think you have a lot of anger to let go of, but I don’t want to tempt you to let it go at me, because then you’ll feel even worse. First you need to recognize where your anger is coming from and then, I dare you to let it go. It is the only way forward to a life of happiness.”

Mac sat before him, smiling. How could anyone possibly be that pleasant? The man must have smoked one too many peace pipes. And what did he mean he had a lot of anger to let go of? The guy was off his rocker.

“What are you mad about?” Mac prompted.

“You want to know what I’m mad about?” Chance grabbed his temples and roared. “I’m mad at you for wanting me to remember all the things I did that I’m not proud of! I’m mad I was made to do these things to begin with. I’m mad I couldn’t stop myself . . . and I’m afraid that if Ana finds out about it all she won’t love me anymore!!”

His cheek quivered, delivering a shock of pain to his heart. He couldn’t bear looking at Mac after his heavy confession. It actually surprised him. Hearing himself say the words made it real. He’d been trying to hide from his memories and feelings. It was all too much for him to process alone and up to this point he hadn’t spoken to anyone about it, not even Ana. Especially not Ana.

“The truth will set you free.”

Chance shook his head. “The truth sucks.”

“Why yes, it does. But I told you it was difficult.” Mac tugged on Chance’s pant leg. “Now the worst is over with, why don’t you join me on the carpet and I’ll help you through your first lesson.”

Chance sighed and conceded. “Fine. You won’t tell Ana though?”

“Not my place to do that. Anyway, once you’re ready, you will.”

As fast as he’d stood up, Chance dropped to the floor, sitting beside Mac, who pointed to the candle on the coffee table that had burned a third of the way down since he’d lit it. Mac said, “Go ahead and allow yourself to focus on the flame.”

With slumped shoulders, Chance stared at the flickering oval of light. It danced on its wick and calmed him while everything else around him fell away. All he could see was its bright flame and hear Mac’s jovial voice. “This is what I had you do when Batukhan brought you to me. You allowed yourself to focus on the fire’s flame and listen to my guidance. I had you concentrate on one of the voices within you so you could push it away to the corners of your mind. We did this three times. The impressions of the other shifters you pushed aside must have made way for the personification that stepped forward. It’s not common to have a voice or power rise above the host’s psyche following this healing practice, which is why I was unprepared for your actions. I am unsure if you remember, but Batukhan also told me this personality spoke through you, claiming to have crossed his and Lifen’s path nearly a century ago. This is why I suspect it was not the sickness that took hold of you so completely, but something more dangerous. What I want you to do now is try to remember these events so that you may forgive yourself.”

“I’d rather learn a new form or have you drive a stake through my hand,” Chance said under his breath.

“If you knock me out again, I might consider it. C’mon, you already did the hardest part, admitting what you’re angry about. The only way to move past what happened to you is facing everything you experienced. This is all I will ask from you for the day. I’ll reward your efforts with a sweet cake that will make you forget your mother’s name . . . how about it?”

Mac was out of his mind if he though sweets could ever lure Chance to do anything. He could care less about food right now. That hiding place in the trees was far more appealing than facing the memories that felt more like clips from horror movies. His shoulders were squared and his arms crossed. Chance could only imagine what his face looked like at that moment.

“If not for my cake, then will you do it for Ana?” Mac asked.

“If you knew me, you’d know I’d do anything for her,” Chance said through pursed lips.

“Good to know. Then, would you please focus on the candle flame and allow yourself to clear your mind? Long, deep breaths in and out. Feel the oxygen pulling all the way down your abdomen and with every exhalation, blow out all of your anxiety, pain and fear. Find yourself at peace.”

Chance closed his eyes. If he was going to do this, he needed to tune out his surroundings. He did as Mac asked and took in a large lungful of air. What he really needed right now was his grandfather. If Niyol were here with him right now, what would he say? Chance felt his grandfather’s presence before he heard his deep whisper in his thoughts. Patience, Chance. Breathe in and out. Be calm and allow yourself to find your center.

Just knowing Niyol was with him gave Chance strength. Niyol was there in spirit and offering his support. Chance reopened his eyes and found the flickering flame atop the candle on the coffee table. Its light was mesmerizing and it allowed him to continue to relax into his body. The blue power within him flowed throughout his cells and helped to soothe his prior agitation. He was ready.

Mac’s voice filtered into his ears. “The next part is very simple. I want you to remember back to when you visited me at my campsite with Batukhan. I don’t want you to hold back. Let it all in.”

Swallowing once, Chance tugged on the edge of the memory and like a loose thread on a sweater, it unraveled. He recalled his search through the wilderness to find Mac’s strange, unknown scent, which had led to the discovery of his first Sasquatch spotting and Mac’s primitive camp in the middle of nowhere. He relived his experience in front of the campfire while pushing Balam’s, Nastas’s and Markus’s voices to the far reaches of his mind. Then the most painful part of all. He felt, heard and saw everything like he was trapped in a glass box. Anxiety gripped his chest and he gasped for air.

Mac’s warm hand settled over Chance’s heart and the intensity of his suffering lifted enough for him to watch the events that he’d blocked out over the last few days. He observed in shame that he’d clubbed Mac, and attacked and taunted Batukhan before running off to find Ana. So much anger, hunger and condescension filled his senses that it was shocking to him. There were segments he hadn’t even recalled that were fresh for him now.

“Well?” Mac’s voice surprised him. “What do you hear?”

Mac positioned himself in front of Chance so he could no longer see the candle flame. His eyes became unfocused before centering on Mac’s face.

“Is it your own thoughts you hear? Your personality you feel?”

The pleasure he experienced after knocking out Mac echoed in his mind. His inclination was to shy away from the memory in shame, but something held his notice. For the first time he fully realized that the voice that had ordered him around wasn’t his own. The enjoyment he felt when toying with Batukhan and Mac was separate from his own distaste.

“No, it’s different.”

Mac looked relieved. “Is this your first time realizing that?”

“Yeah.”

“So, now are you ready to let go of another’s soul shame, pushing you to take action?”

“Another soul?” Chance asked.

Mac gave a grim nod. “Yes.”