Saving Autumn by Marissa Farrar

Author:Marissa Farrar [Farrar, Marissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B00HS5T7D6
Barnesnoble: B00HS5T7D6
Publisher: Warwick House Press
Published: 2013-12-30T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

IN DESPERATION, CHOGAN had called another meeting with the other shifters.

He kept running the interview with Annabel Christie over in his head, wishing he’d answered differently, that he hadn’t come across so brusque. He should have known he wouldn’t be able to trust a reporter. They would only ever be out to get the most controversial of news stories in order to boost their ratings. He’d had no reason to think Ms. Christie would have been any different.

Night had fallen once more, and this time he was on high alert for the presence of anyone who shouldn’t have been in this part of the forest. His wolf ran on ahead, hackles raised in anticipation of a fight, ears flat against the animal’s head. Though Chogan was fully aware of his surroundings as he walked, part of his mind was filled with the path up ahead, one he hadn’t seen with his own eyes as of yet. At least the rain had held off tonight, though the fall air was still chilled. He barely noticed, his shifter body heat protecting him against the elements. He stuffed his fists into his leather jacket and walked with purpose between the trees. At this hour, there shouldn’t be any chance of bumping into hikers. The only people he expected to see here were the ones he had invited.

He reached the abandoned homestead. The windows had been boarded up with plywood, though pieces of broken, jagged glass still poked from the frame. A rickety porch ran around the perimeter of the wooden building, the railing snapped, the fractured pieces of wood sharp and splintered. A sign was positioned at the entrance, warning of the imminent demolition of the building, tape stretched across the entrance to the porch. Chogan ignored it and pushed through, ripping the tape from the porch banister. The sign dropped to the ground. It cracked beneath his foot as he walked across.

He’d already known he was the first to reach the building. He’d needed to come as a man, not as wolf, purely so he could provide light for everyone to see by. Though his own night vision was excellent, some of the other shifters weren’t as strong, their gifts given to them later in life, making their powers less. He dropped the large rucksack he’d been carrying to the floor and rolled his shoulder to work out the kink. Stooping to the floor, he opened the bag and fished out the large pillar candles he’d brought. He placed them in the corners of the room and took a book of matches from the back pocket of his jeans. The flare of the match lit the room, the smack of sulphur hitting the musty air. He held the match to each individual candle, moving between them until the flame bit at his fingers, and the room began to flick and burn with the light of numerous candles.

His wolf stayed outside, trotting through the undergrowth, nose to the ground. It stayed alert

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