A chuckle escaped at Derick’s pleading. “I’m here. I’ll call you back once I know more.”
“Seriously, Lane—”
“Yes, love,” Lane replied, cutting the engine outside the large house that had around twenty divergents at any one time. He ended the call hearing Derick’s frustrated sigh.
The door opened, and light flooded the outside area as the security lights came on. There were two minivans sitting on the driveway, along with a Corvette that belonged to Ewan. It was very much his baby.
A man stood at the top of the steps leading into the house. Tall at six foot four, his wiry build made him appear taller. Black shaggy hair hung around startlingly pretty features. Although it was his pale gray eyes that held Lane’s attention. Sadness seeped out of him, soaking Lane before he’d taken more than a few steps towards the three-storey home. The wrap-around porches on both the first and second stories were littered with bicycles, bats, balls, baseball gloves and other toys.
Lights illuminated only the bottom windows, and Lane could see Lester in the main room, which they usually used as a group room. Lane mounted the stairs. He couldn’t see who Lester was talking to. His lips were moving, and he wore a look that sent a spike of fear through Lane.
“Thank you for coming.” Ewan looked drawn and tired, older somehow, when Lane returned his attention to him.
“What happened?” Lane preferred the direct approach.
Ewan stepped out and closed the door behind him. His gaze went to where Lane had seen Lester. A deep furrow appeared as he ran a hand through his messy hair. “We got a call from a friend asking us to take a child”—his gaze moved to Lane—“to hide him.”
Lane tasted bile at the back of his throat. Swallowing, he wet his lips. “Hide him?”
Ewan nodded so slowly he appeared to be in slow motion. “His parents were murdered… in front of him.”
Lane’s knees buckled at such an atrocity, and he became forced to lock them out to keep standing, fearing this wasn’t the worst of it by Ewan’s grim expression.
He was right.
Ewan treaded quietly over the porch as if he was unable to stay still for a second longer, showing an awareness of those in the house despite the lost look he wore as he continued.
“They were divergent, Rue's parents, and he isn’t. As part of a crash—”
“A crash? God, I didn’t think any existed anymore?” Archaic sprang to mind, and that added to the worry burdening Lane’s thoughts because that meant ultra-crazy fanatics. The belief about divergents—those who couldn’t shift into their animal spirit—and those who could shift, became warped if both parents were divergent and conceived a shifter child. Then the hocus-pocus nonsense got spouted about them therefore being a stronger and superior species. Utter crap as far as Lane was concerned because there was no evidence to support any such theory except in the mind of those who hated divergents.
“Unfortunately, they do! And this one is real old school. It seems they wanted Rue but not his parents. They allowed them all into the crash, acting like they accepted the mall,” he said, his voice filled with pain.
So much pain that Lane rested back against the porch to keep himself upright as Ewan stared unseeingly into the night.
“From what I can gather from Rue, though he’s still in shock and won’t let anyone get too close to… to clean him up, they accepted the whole family six months ago. Not sure where they moved from, but they landed in Martha, Texas, after having issues relating to having a son who could shift when they could not.” Ewan’s hands repeatedly clenched and unclenched at his sides as he returned his attention to Lane.
“Fuckers drew them in with fake platitudes and lulled them into a false sense of security.” He shuddered, his eyes glistening in the porch lights. “Rue got out of the house somehow and found his way to one of the safe homes we have scattered about.He hasn’t said how he knew about them, and right now, that’s not what’s important.”
It was a familiar story, one Lane had heard more than once, of children running to safety houses. Except the children were divergent, not shifters.
“How did his parents end up in this crash?” Lane asked with a growing sense of trepidation for Rue’s family and their misguided beliefs.
At the brusque head shake, Ewan glanced into the house, his expression revealing the devastation he clearly felt. “Rue hasn’t said, but clearly it was a ploy to get their hands on Rue. They have very few young, strong males and…”
“They saw his potential to…” Lane couldn’t bring himself to say it. Someone like Rue would be considered a prize in this type of situation. It was the thing nightmares were made of. If they’d managed to contain—imprison—Rue, his life would have been all about crash life and not his own.
“Of course they did. I don’t think they counted on him being concerned about what they had done. The boy is devastated, and they wouldn’t understand that when they don’t see any value to his parents at all,” Ewan whispered, eyes blinking rapidly as the tears sheened his eyes.
Whatever they needed, Lane would do it, and he’d deal with his husband. “What do you need from me?”
The tension in Ewan’s jaw released as he stepped to Lane, relief evident in his eyes. “Come meet him before I say anymore.”
Lane’s chuckle was wry. “I know your ploy.”
Ewan gave him a sideways glance, a hint of a smile forming as they walked towards the front door. “Whatever works, right?”
“Then you can deal with Derick.”
