Following Fabian by Holley Trent

Author:Holley Trent [Trent, Holley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal, paranormal romance, paranormal romantic suspense, strong heroine, alpha male, shifter, shapeshifter, superhero
Published: 2015-01-23T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Mierda.”

The senior Felipe Castillo drummed his fingertips along the side of his borrowed truck and sighed.

Perhaps borrowed was the wrong word. He’d stolen it, but just for a little while, just as he’d done numerous times in the past. He was always careful, always returned the items he’d used, and usually in a better condition than when he’d found them. That’s how he’d made his way in the past thirty-some odd years.

He really was invisible in that he rarely left a trace. Invisibility could only get him so far, though. Phasing used to be easy for him. He could pass from solid to air in the blink of his eyes and feel no strain from it when he shifted back, but the shifts were getting harder now. His mother had warned him when he was a young man not to stay as air for too long or snapping back would be harder. Eventually, impossible. He’d heeded her warning for many years, but what choice did he have now? He was too far gone.

Maybe one day he’d fade away all together—to never be able to pull his body back into its physical shape. Maybe that’d be exactly what he deserved—to still be alive and have his soul bound to the Earth when he wanted nothing more than to pass away from it. He’d be a living ghost. Fucking shame if that would happen now that he had a renewed passion for life—the granddaughter who didn’t have a name yet. She was quite obviously meant to be a Gabrielle like the grandmother she’d never know. His wife had always stolen all the attention in a room without trying.

Maybe he’d have to be less discreet in dropping name hints.

Movement in the dirt lot in front of him roused him back to his mission. The caravan had pulled over for a while to regroup. Senior had caught up to the splintered troupe near the Canadian border with North Dakota, and if they got that far, he wouldn’t be able to follow. He didn’t have the credentials to drive across the border. He could abandon the truck and walk across it, but then he’d have to borrow another. Too tricky.

He suspected the only reason this group was lingering as long as they were was because they were getting their paperwork in order. If they’d acquired new troupe members since their last border crossing, there may have been people in the group who didn’t have the legal documentation to leave the country. Jacques usually held onto his employees’ passports as a means of control, so either he was with this group, or he’d delegated the paperwork dispensation to one of his toadies. The latter didn’t seem likely.

An older gentleman Senior didn’t know finally tossed his cigarette butt to the ground and strode to the door of the camper he’d emerged from ten minutes prior.

Senior had been waiting for that man to turn his back so he could slip out of the truck.

He did, closed the door softly, and drew a long, cold breath into his lungs.

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