Three days passed before Atticus let me out of his room, and then only because Natalia banged on the door and demanded proof of life. Apparently he took the promise to mark me very seriously. I came more in those three days than I had in my entire life. From the way Atticus watched me, we would have stayed in his bed another couple of weeks if he could have managed it. I didn't mind at all.
But I still had to work on control, so I went back to meditating and doing yoga with Carter. After the first couple of times when I crawled out of bed at six and Atticus tried to wheedle me back, he got up and went with me. Atticus wouldn't admit it, but the meditation helped him as well. A general calm settled over him, and the lion peered out at me less and less. Even Carter noticed a difference when he offered gentle suggestions to his youngest brother. Atticus listened.
The first time we walked to breakfast from yoga and Atticus heaved a sigh and said, "It feels so damn peaceful," I cried. Peaceful. Exactly what I wanted for his lion and my leopard.
He just kissed me and wiped the tears away, laughing at me as he asked what the problem was. I couldn't explain, not really, and so Atticus did what he did best — threw me over his shoulder, carried me back to his room, and made love to me until a different kind of peace grounded us.
That was a full week ago, and now Logan finally felt comfortable letting me out of the house and into the city.
I smoothed my hands over the borrowed skirt, nervous I looked like an imposter in the expensive clothes. Atticus caught my hand and squeezed it as he led the way into an office building downtown, all glass and chrome, and took the elevator up a long damn way. The leopard wasn't sure she liked it, but when we grew restless, Atticus grumbled and pressed me up against the wall of the elevator and kissed me until every other thought fled.
So I was a little dazed as we stepped into the private investigator's office. Atticus greeted the receptionist and handed her a business card with something extra scribbled on it. "Edgar sent us to see Mr. Smith."
She smiled and said, "He's expecting you," as she led the way through a long hallway to one of the back offices.
I frowned as I peered into some of the other offices; all were occupied by people who looked like lawyers and bankers and corporate wonks, not investigators. Atticus tugged on my hand as I slowed and winked as he pulled me against his side. In the back office, a tall man rose from behind his desk to shake Atticus's hand. "Mr. Chase. Very nice to meet you."
"Mr. Smith. Thank you for seeing us. This is my friend, Sophia."
The older man smiled, briefly shaking my fingers with his, and gestured at the chairs in front of his desk. "Please." And then he waited, watching me with a bemused head-tilt.
The chair creaked under Atticus's weight. "Sophia is looking for her family. She's run into a dead-end and there doesn't seem to be a logical place to turn next. So we need some additional help."
"There are very few dead-ends in this world," Smith said to me, then uncapped a pen and made a few notes on a pad of paper. "I don't make promises, Ms. Sophia, but I am generally an optimist about these things. Let's start at the beginning."
And then they both watched me. So I cleared my throat and opened the accordion file of paperwork I'd amassed over the last several years. "I don't remember anything before twelve or thirteen. My first memory is at this orphanage."
I handed the pieces of paper across the desk for him to examine, make notes, and ask follow up questions, and as I talked, a weight lifted off my heart. It was my story, sure, and I'd talked about it with investigators before, but never so clearly in the light of day. Never to someone who looked so... competent. It felt almost more like a job interview.
And Atticus, next to me, just listened. When I choked up, he held my hand and gave me a handkerchief, but I plowed on through the entire file. The investigator frowned in thought as he studied the tattered birth certificate. "You've been very thorough, Ms. Sophia, which is commendable. But there are certainly some gaps where I think we can make progress. There's one important question, though."
I braced myself.
His white eyebrows arched over crystal blue eyes, the pupil oddly elongated, and he leaned back in his chair. "Do you really want to know the truth, Sophia? Are you prepared to really hear that your parents dropped you off or abandoned you or never wanted you? Are you prepared to hear the absolute worst situation?"
I hesitated, attention glued to the mess of papers spread across his desk. My entire life, or what I'd been able to construct of it, fit in a single accordion file. But the leopard yawned and stretched and didn't seem terribly concerned. We already had a family. Whatever he told us was in the past. So I cleared my throat as I gripped the arms of the chair. "Yes. I am."
"Okay." He made another note on his paper, then eyed me shrewdly. "You're a lion as well, or another type of feline?"
I froze, jaw slack, and looked at Atticus. He nodded. "It's okay," he said and I flushed.
"Snow leopard," I said.
Smith blinked. "Very unique. That will help." He made a few more notes, then nodded and rose from behind his desk. "I'll get started and call you in a week with the updates."
Atticus shook his hand. "Thank you."
As Smith shook my hand, he squeezed very gently, as if wanting to be careful of me. "For what it's worth, Ms. Sophia, in my entire career of tracking people down, I've only had one case where shifter parents voluntarily gave up their child. I am hopeful we will find good news."
"Thank you," I managed to whisper, holding on to my composure with my fingernails.
I couldn't have said how I made it out of the building or into the car for all the money in the world. It seemed like I blinked and then we were back in the sedan, driving through the city. Atticus held my hand as he drove, and I watched the streets flash by. Maybe I would get answers. I didn't need them anymore. I had a family, and like Eloise said, the one I found and made was more important than the one I'd left. All I needed in the world was Atticus.
The next day I was back at work, though someone stayed with me through each class. Eloise lasted fifteen minutes into an hour-long cardio kickboxing class, then she sat in the corner and gave me dirty looks for the rest of the afternoon. Atticus joined me for the self-defense classes. I nearly cried as my students burst into tears to welcome me back, exclaiming about how concerned they'd been, and I wondered if I had more in common with them than I thought. By the third night, everyone grew accustomed to giant Atticus being the guinea pig, though the first night he got some raised eyebrows.
He waited good-naturedly, his hands around my throat, as I explained a combination to break the grip and get away. I looked at him and nodded. "Okay, babe."
His grip tightened but not too much, and I stomped on his instep, landed a punch in his side, and grabbed his hand to free my throat. He sighed and stood back, rubbing where I'd hit him, and I patted his shoulder. A few women asked questions and then paired up to practice. Atticus checked his phone, then leaned over to kiss my cheek. "The investigator found something. Can we meet him after class?"
"Of course." My heart seized up and I couldn't breathe. He found something.
Atticus grumbled and his arm slid around my stomach as I turned away, and he drew me back to hold against his chest. His chin rested on the top of my head as he rubbed my back. "It's okay. Good or bad, we'll be fine."
I closed my eyes briefly and squeezed him back, then pulled free of the hug. I froze as I caught the entire class watching, grinning, and I laughed. "Okay, so I take it we're done. Have a good night. I'll see you guys on Friday."
They teased me and even poked fun at Atticus, but I couldn't muster the good humor to hang around too long. I pulled on a jacket so we could go straight to the investigator's office, which was only a few blocks from the gym. Atticus held my hand as we walked.
Neither of us spoke on the long elevator ride, nor in the walk through the vacant halls to Smith's office. The older man rose from his desk as we came in, and once more shook my hand. "Thank you for coming at such late notice. I just confirmed a few details and thought you would want to hear sooner rather than later."
I collapsed into a chair and clenched my hands together between my knees. Atticus eased into the chair next to me, his hand a comforting weight on my shoulder. I held my breath.
Smith braced his hands on the desk as he looked at me. "I found them. Your name is Sophia Renee Frazier."
I couldn't move. Stared at him as I started to shake.
He passed a photo across the desk and set it in front of me. I looked at it and then couldn't look away as he went on. A man, dark-haired and handsome, stood next to a woman with auburn hair and hazel eyes and a beautiful smile. Three children stood in front of them, two girls and a boy. My eyes blurred with tears and my throat closed.
Smith's voice reached me from very far away. "They live in Michigan — Hugo and Tatiana Frazier. You have two sisters, Klara and Irina, and a brother, Aleksandr. They're all snow leopards."
My finger shook as I touched the woman's face. Mother.
Atticus squeezed my shoulder, his voice surprisingly deep. "Do they know about Sophia?"
"I called one contact I knew in Chicago and said I had a snow leopard looking for her parents. Ten minutes after I hung up, I had Hugo on the phone, threatening me with bodily harm if I knew about his daughter and didn't tell him everything. They've been searching for you for a long time, Sophia."
My lips parted as I finally dragged my gaze from the photo, clutched in my lap, and stared at the kindly investigator. "But what — what happened?"
His expression turned grim. "From what your father and my contacts told me, there was a rash of kidnappings about twenty years ago throughout the Midwest. Shifter kids were grabbed from schools, from hospitals, from homes... Apparently several packs and prides got together, hunted down the perpetrators, and discovered a medical research facility outside Chicago."
The room tilted around me and I almost pitched out of my chair. Medical research facility. I shook my head, trying to understand what he said. Atticus growled, long and low, and I reached a shaking hand toward him. "M-medical research? What does that have to do with...?"
I trailed off as I ran out of words. My father. He'd spoken with my father. On the phone. They looked for me. They'd searched for me. Missed me. My eyes burned.
Smith held up a manila folder. "He sent me some of the information they have on the group. Because of the advanced healing abilities and unique genetics of shifters, the group wanted to isolate those characteristics for use in pharmaceutical research and cloning. They don't know how these people learned that shifters exist, nor do they know if they've eliminated these individuals. A few kids have disappeared over the last two decades, but none have been recovered. The packs managed to free several children when they raided the research facility. You were already gone, Sophia. They don't know how you ended up at the orphanage in DC, but your connection to Chicago is altogether different than you'd been told."
The knot in my throat made it impossible to swallow. I looked back at the photo, touching their faces. Family.
Atticus gripped the arms of his chair until the metal bent. "These people are still on the loose?"
"Possibly." Smith placed the folder once more on his desk. "They may have gotten better at hiding.”
"And there could be others out there, like Sophia, who don't know what they are."
"Certainly." The investigator took a deep breath and shook his head. "I will provide this information to the Council so they can investigate further, if they choose."
"They will investigate." Atticus rumbled, then reached out and caught me, dragged me onto his lap so he could loop his arms around my waist. "These people in Chicago — they know more?"
"I can give you names to reach out to," the investigator said. His eyebrow arched as he looked at me. "Before we go down that road, Mr. Chase, the Fraziers asked me to pass a message to Sophia."
I froze, panic welling up in my chest. My hands shook so much I nearly tore the photo.
Smith smiled. "They very much want to see you, Sophia. They've invited you to Michigan, or they'll fly here if that makes you more comfortable. They will take things as slowly or quickly as you want. If you have any questions or want to reach out to them directly, this is their contact information and a note from your youngest sister."
I couldn't un-stick myself enough to take the envelope he offered, so Atticus took it for me. He kissed my shoulder, squeezed my knee. I wiped at my cheeks and cleared my throat, flustered that the stoic investigator should see me in such a state. I wobbled to my feet, grateful for Atticus's steadying hands on my waist, and shook Smith's hand. "Thank you. So much. More than you know. Can I — can I come back to ask you questions? I don't know if I'll remember all this."
"Any time." He smiled, kindness in his odd eyes, and shook Atticus's hand as well. "Really, I'm happy to answer any questions you have. I'll courier over the rest of the files tomorrow and you can go over my notes at your leisure. If you'd like me to be an intermediary with the Fraziers, I'm happy to do that as well."
The leopard wanted to leap and bound and dance. Our people. The strange man found our people. I shivered and hugged myself. My thoughts couldn't keep up with his words or Atticus's, quietly discussing what the Council would need to know, and my feet barely worked as Atticus led the way out of the office. I panicked in the elevator until Atticus gave me the envelope with the contact information and letter, and then I leaned into his chest and cried. An ugly cry that left teary blotches on his shirt and ignited a headache behind my eyes, but the joy that grew beneath it almost knocked me down.
Atticus kissed me and bundled me into the car so we could drive back to the mansion. I stared at the envelope as he drove, a thousand questions and possibilities whirling through my mind. Two families. The leopard wanted to meet them, to smell them until we could always find them. I studied Atticus's profile in the flashing city lights, and he turned to smile at me. Whatever happened, I would never be lost again.
