Chapter Ten

Two days later and Trey still hadn't shown up at school. Harrison and I had gone to his house, trying to find some information, but just as Harrison had said, the family didn't seem all the concerned. Or, perhaps it was better to say they saw him as a nuisance, as a penance they had to pay.

Spirits were often expected to take in young from the clan, since the types who were infected couldn't remain in the human world, with their human parents. They often didn't get any choice about it, and this was one such case.

Seeing the disinterest in the two Weres' faces made me want to punch them, but Harrison had hauled me out before I got the chance. Rude.

"Do you think he's okay?" I asked Harrison as we sat in his classroom during lunch, food spread out on his desk between us.

Harrison didn't pretend to not understand, but neither did he lie to me. He probably knew that wouldn't work, that I'd see straight through it. "I don't know. He's skipped out on school before, but never for this long."

Which again suggested this was a serious problem. Each morning, I scoured through the local groups, searching for any sign of Trey. It was the worst thirty minutes of my day, hands down, fear beating at me as I checked out any article that could have to do with Trey. A body found, an accident, a missing person report, anything. Each time, no matter how much I looked, I found nothing.

"So what now?"

"We wait. The supplier has taken notice—he must have. I haven't seen any evidence of Cloud made by him here. I suspect the dealers here have moved over to getting from you instead of him, which would prove a large loss in profit for him. Trey is probably hiding right now, waiting for this all to blow over. If he just stays out of sight, he should be able to return when we have finished."

I nodded, the food not tasting so great despite the five-star café on campus that we'd gotten it from. It seemed I didn't care for the seasoning of guilt when it came to food. I hated the idea of just waiting, but really, what other options were there? Trey had vanished off the face of the earth, and it didn't seem like he had any friends that we could find, any leads to where he might have gone.

All I could do was hope that he was just hiding, that once we handled this shit ourselves, he'd show back up and go back to his weird little life. I never would have figured I'd sit here hoping a kid got back to dealing drugs, but given the alternative, that sounded like a happy ending to me.

My phone vibrated on the desk, so I grabbed it and looked at the screen. It showed a number I didn't recognize, though that wasn't all that uncommon. I'd added a number to the phone for my current side hustle, which meant I'd have both buyers and dealers calling me for product.

"Hello?" I answered.

"You have proven yourself quite the problem for me," came a voice I didn't recognize, one that tugged the corners of my lips down.

"You're going to need to narrow that down a whole hell of a lot," I said. "I cause problems for way too many people for me to even hope to know who you are or what you want." I moved the phone from my ear and hit the speaker button, the caller's voice filling the empty classroom.

"I had a rather nice thing going until you showed up. I have to admit, your product is impressive, but I don't sit back while people ruin what I have created. So, how should we handle this?"

"Handle what? From where I'm sitting, I don't have a problem. Business is booming for me."

"If this is going to be a problem for me, trust me, I'll make it a problem for you, too. I'm not mean, though. You're new to this scene, so it shouldn't be too big an issue for you to take off and start back up somewhere else. That'd fix this for both of us."

"See, the thing is, I'm pretty happy here. I'm making plenty of easy money. Restarting somewhere else would take time and effort and at the end of the day, I'm pretty fucking lazy."

"Yeah, well, lazy or not, it's gonna to be better and less painful to start over."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then I've got no problem getting mean. Your product will be bad by Friday. If I see your symbol after that, you'll see what happens." The call went dead, so I set the phone down on the desk, the threat lingering in the air. He sure as fuck sounded serious…

I could usually tell the difference between a bluff and a person ready to follow through, and this asshole seemed the type to do exactly as he said. Or, fuck, maybe I was just being paranoid?

My phone rang again, and I let out a sigh as I picked it back up. People didn't call me much, then did it all at once. When it rained, it poured. It wasn't the same number as before, so it wasn't that asshole trying to get a last word. Instead, Galen's name showed.

"Long time no hear," I said as I answered.

"You need to come over."

"I'm working. Can I come later?"

Galen paused, as though he really didn't want to keep talking, didn't want to tell me whatever perched at the end of his tongue. He sighed, his voice softening in a way that suggested this was serious. "No, you can't come later. It's Trey."

The phone fell from my hand, all the fears that had swamped me earlier rising again. I knew without hearing another word this was bad fucking news.

Just like I'd thought earlier—the moment I got close to anyone, I fucked their lives right up.

* * * *

I didn't bother knocking on Galen's door, twisting the handle and barreling inside like it was my own place. Then again, I'd broken in here often enough, and this time, he'd at least called me.

Harrison was on my heels, but he paused at the threshold.

Galen walked down the stairs, and the fact he didn't look annoyed by my entry told me how serious the situation must have been. He glanced behind me, then nodded at Harrison, giving him permission to enter.

Later, I'd probably get myself a lecture about how, as a council seat, I needed to remember things like decorum more. However, if I caused a war with a little breaking and entering, it was only my problem. Plus, we were talking about Galen here—he was used to things like this.

"Where is he?" I rushed out, not waiting before heading toward the stairs. The bedrooms were all upstairs, so I had to guess that's where they'd put an injured guest.

Galen caught my arm before I got past him, pulling me to a stop halfway up the staircase. "He's resting."

"So? I want to see him."

"You need to calm down first. Do you really think he you'll help anything half-cocked right now?"

I opened my mouth to tell him that he was welcome to kiss the whole of my ass, but snapped it shut before the insults went flying. He wasn't wrong. This was my fault, and the last thing Trey needed was me making this all about me. I took a deep breath, trying to pull the scraps of my temper together into a patchwork version of self-control, to ignore the energy that soared around inside me, the desire to get up there and make sure Trey was alive.

Galen hadn't given me much information, telling me to come and see for myself. All I knew for sure was that Trey had been brought here, and that wouldn't have happened unless he'd gotten seriously hurt.

"Okay," I admitted, trying to keep my voice steady. "See, I'm fine. Not acting crazy at all."

Galen lifted one of his dark eyebrows from behind his glasses, the look saying he didn't trust me a bit. I couldn't really blame him for that, though. I could make the trip from sane to bat-shit-crazy in one little hop. It was the only cardio I ever did. Finally, he nodded and released me. "Third room on the left."

I bolted past him, taking the steps two at a time, until I arrived at the door to the room he'd indicated. I didn't bother knocking—if I wasn't going to at the front door, I wouldn't inside the house, either. I opened it, finding the room brighter than it ought to be. I'd expected some old Victorian room, something dim with stone walls and some wasting away sickly child. Maybe that was just the stupid part of my brain focusing on foolishness to make the situation less dire.

Instead, I found a brightly lit room, sun streaming in through the open window, and Trey stretched out on the bed. His eyes were closed, but I didn't see any injuries on him. No black eyes, no broken bones, nothing like that.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked, keeping my voice low. "I thought he'd gotten hurt, but he looks fine."

"He's a Werebear," Galen said from just behind me. "And a strong one at that. There aren't a lot of Spirits who could tangle with him physically."

"So what's wrong with him?"

"Cloud." Harrison stood at the doorway, staring at the boy's still body on the bed. "I can feel it from here. Someone used Cloud and invaded his mind."

"That's what I figured. He hasn't regained consciousness, not since he was found on the side of a road."

"The side of a road?" I drew my hands into tight fists. "You're telling me someone just dropped him like trash?"

"Seems that way. A nurse at the hospital realized what he was, so she called me. I had him brought here because I have no idea what this might do to a Were, and the last thing we need is a crazed Werebear running amok. Seemed safer to have him here. We made sure the police weren't involved and we already contacted his foster family to let them know."

I turned back toward Harrison. "You saved me when I got attacked. Can't you do something?"

Harrison pressed his lips together—a pretty obvious no—but moved past Galen and me to the side of the bed. He held his hand over Trey's face, then set it against his forehead. A rush of power filled the room, but it wasn't violent. Rather than a quick moving river that might sweep a person away, it felt like the ebb and flow of the waves in the ocean—undeniably powerful but not as volatile.

It again reminded me that while Harrison's power might not be as obvious as other types of spirits, it was no less impressive.

He closed his eyes, his focus entirely on whatever he felt through the touch to Trey's head. Trey's expression shifted as though in pain.

Before I could think twice, I moved the few steps closer and took Trey's hand in my own, squeezing tightly, hoping he might somehow sense that and that it might soothe him in some small way. His expression didn't suggest it had, but with nothing else to offer, I kept hold of his hand.

After what felt like minutes without ends, Harrison took his hand back, his face appearing exhausted. "Someone dug through his mind. They didn't just view it, they tore it apart. He has burned out neurons everywhere." He shook his head, as though looking at something tragic.

"What does that mean? How long until he wakes up?"

"He may not wake. The damage is severe. If he were anything other than a Were, I'd say there was no chance of him recovering, but Weres have exceptional healing abilities. Plus, because of their animal spirit, they can come back from injuries others couldn't. Even if he does wake, though, there is no telling what condition he would be in. He might prove uncontrollable and beyond repair."

"Beyond repair?" I repeated the words, hating how heavy they felt on my tongue. That was the sort of thing someone said about a car whose engine knocked, not a person. "What do you mean by that?"

Harrison didn't respond, and at least he had the decency to turn his face away, to look out of the window instead of at me. It was a good choice because I was fighting hard against the desire to slap him across his stupidly perfect face.

"Weres are not like other spirits," Galen said. "They have to be able to control their beast. If they can't, they are a danger to everyone and everything else around them."

"So what happens if he's a little testier when he wakes up? So what? I'm around and I sure as fuck have a temper."

"A Werebear like him could slaughter people, Grey. If he wakes and can't control himself, I will have no choice but to deal with it and make sure he doesn't endanger anyone."

I sat up straight at Galen's words, as though they were a knife he'd just waved in my direction. The meaning was obvious even if he tried to use cute little euphemisms to say it. Even if Trey somehow survived the attack, if he woke up against all odds, but he couldn't control his beast? Galen would kill him. I rejected the idea before my brain even fully formed it, clenching my molars together to keep from saying all the shit I really wanted to say.

Instead, I kept my voice quiet. "Get out."

"Grey…" Galen said, his voice gentle enough to piss me off. It wasn't me that required gentleness right now. Not only was this all bad, but it was all my fault.

"Give her time," Harrison said.

"We can't just leave her in here with him." Galen kept his voice low as he responded, as though I couldn't hear them despite only being a few feet away.

"It's fine. He won't wake, not in the next day or two at least."

With that, the two left, the door shutting quietly behind them.

I squeezed Trey's hand again, trying to ignore the burning in my eyes. Tears didn't help anyone. It was something I knew better than most. Tears were cheap and easy and ultimately useless. People cried because they thought suffering made them special, but who wanted the tears of someone else? They were just dressing people put on their own selfishness—nothing more.

"You know, you really should wake up," I said, my voice trembling. "If you do, I'll owe you something nice. What do you want? I'll get off your ass about selling anything, and I'll bribe your teachers to pass you whether or not you show up. Fuck, you want a car? I can steal you just about anything." I laughed, the sound hollow and broken as I pictured pulling up to his school with a freshly pilfered sports car. I'd do it, too.

I just didn't want to lose someone else, didn't want to carry the weight of another life ruined on my shoulders. I didn't know if I could carry it, not anymore.

But no matter what I promised to him, what I offered up, Trey didn't move. He didn't respond, didn't wake, didn't squeeze my hand back. Nothing worked.

I had no idea how long I sat there, how long I waited for any sign that he heard me, that he was still there. Harrison and Galen left me be, even after the sun had set, when the sky outside the window was bathed in pinks and oranges. Eventually, the tightness in my back and the silence in the room overcame my desire to stay there.

I released his hand and rose, staring down at him, the difference startling. When awake, he'd been bigger than life. I recalled the way he'd faced off against me, the way he'd accepted changes and surprises so easily. Now, however, he lay there lifeless. He seemed like an empty shell now, and that hurt more than anything else.

"Wake up and I'll make this up to you. I'll make this right." I glanced out of the window, swallowing hard enough that my throat hurt. "And if you don't wake up? I'll make damn sure that the fucker who did this to you lives just long enough to regret it."

With that, I walked away from the bed, leaving Trey there. Something ugly and painful grew inside me, gnawing at my stomach, swiping at me. I would have called it anger, normally. I was pissed that this had happened, that a kid had gotten targeted, that some asshole had decided to tear Trey's mind apart and for what? For nothing. I wasn't stupid enough to think it was really anger, though.

No doubt when I sat alone later, when I closed my eyes to rest and couldn't avoid or ignore the feeling anymore, I'd know the truth. Anger was just an easy costume for me to put on something far worse.

What really hurt was guilt, because I knew this was all my fault.