Page 34 of Shifting Years (Whispering Hills #5)

Once we hit the two-lane country road, I flipped on the black Corvette's cruise control. I got it for the horsepower, and Mike said it reminded him of Knight Rider . Other viewers watched a crime-fighting Trans Am, but our attention was on David Hasselhoff and his oh so sexy chest hair.

I turned off the radio, muttering, "Modern music isn't music anymore," half-expecting Mike to fire back, but he didn't.

Soon, we'd be in Dallas at a fast-food restaurant of all places. A meet-up after ten years should have some decorum, but father and daughter both picked a cheap place.

"Do you think she likes the city?" asked Mike. "I mean, LA didn't really bother me, but I had a general unease, you know?"

"No, I don't know. My town in Vermont was small and still is." I had visited my father's grave, figuring he deserved that much. Like before, we met with silence, and I never returned.

"I wonder about everything with Angel. If we'd been around, maybe we wouldn't have to wonder."

"We walked away so she could have a life. Four other girls too."

"Yeah, but you didn't have to give up—"

"A child who was mine?"

"I didn't mean it like that, but she was inside me for three months, then beside me for five years, then gone."

"We both lost someone," we said together before staring at each other.

"A teenage girl can change a lot in a year. What if she doesn't like the same things?"

"That's why we got a gift anyone would like." I jerked a thumb to a small, gift-wrapped present. "You'll see her, get the answers, and find out how much of our world she knows. Angel won't have the confusion we did."

"And everything will be taken care of, just like that?"

"Why do you have to twist my words all the time? We're going to see our daughter after ten years. Not just be shadows at a birthday party. Really see her."

"Our daughter?" He grinned.

"Sure. Someone's got to teach her how to make it in life. Obviously, it'll fall to me."

"Obviously," he said before playfully poking me in the side.

My voice softened. "I would have liked a baby girl growing up, someone who could have been an older sister to Penny and Mary's kids, but she's got two brothers. We may add something missing in her life."

"Like you in mine." Mike's hand rested on my lap. Soon, he'd go into a not-quite-sleep where he'd lay against me with open eyes.

On autopilot I drove, thinking of Nightback Ridge with Tina and Dawn.

The true power a decade ago was in those women, and the thing to fear because they lifted him like he was nothing.

I lived through Vietnam as a POW. For too many years, my existence was a nightmare, but I froze when I saw Henry.

The man who went overseas and was tortured couldn't deal with an armored monster.

What would it be like for a little five-year-old girl?

Worse than anything I could imagine.

Ammonia-scented worry wafted off alerting Mike. "Just hoping she's okay." My fingers wrapped around the steering wheel hard.

Mike's eyes dipped momentarily. "And that's why we're going to Texas. To give everyone their answers."

"Glad you can learn from my words. It's about time." I grinned.

He rolled his eyes and flipped the radio back on.

The ending notes of Nothing's Going to Stop Us Now faded out .

The next song was more loud heavy metal, but nothing that was our music.

Psychedelic and slow country music disappeared, replaced with a faster, neon generation.

Thanks to our nature, we were still young-looking but didn't quite fit with those who looked our age.

People we've seen like Bobby and another gay couple Mike knew commented on 'how good life was treating us.' My combat brother knew our secret, but if wolves knew about a clued- in human, his life would be over like other friends who died overseas. So we kept our distance.

Is that what we'll do? Live away from everyone?

Is that what we're doing with Angel? Staying away?

No. We'd see her soon, and I could take it if she didn't know or even hated me, but it would destroy Mike.

Would she understand we tried to be there for her, at a distance?

We created stories of dead long-lost relatives with wills and used connections to create jobs that paid over the going rate.

All so her… parents could take care of five little girls who stretched their finances.

We parked near a tall faded blue sign that said Howard Johnson's Restaurant . With a deep breath, we got out, approaching the orange-roof. Once inside, shifter eyes searched for a brown, not blonde-haired girl. Mike stilled as his heartbeat quickened.

She sat in the middle of the restaurant, still and unreadable. Maybe she didn't see us. Maybe she was pretending. Her hair was long, the kind of effortless length hippie girls had in the sixties but streaked with fresh purple dye. Rebellion, or just style?

We approached the table, and the congealed meat smell did nothing for my nose or stomach. Mike could be infuriating, but he knew how to spoil me with high-quality cooking.

Two men with a lover's stance toward each other approached a fifteen-year-old girl.

A few men stopped mid-chew, as if sensing something wrong.

Mike stared, and his lip trembled slightly.

"Calm down," I whispered. Using my Alpha's Word had ethical questions, but he deserved a sensible reunion, instead of breaking down in front of everyone.

We sat without asking, our movements hesitant, each glance at her face a search for recognition or rejection. Her lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze flickering between us and her resurfaced memories.

"Those two women," she said, her voice carefully measured. "You know them. And everything they told me, it's true, isn't it?" Her lips pursed just like her father's. She stared hard at us again, then back to Mike. "I… came from you?"

Mike blinked quickly, trying to hold back tears. "Yes. S-so long ago."

It was the eighties, and it didn't turn out to be the decade for gays.

She wasn't homophobic, but knowing she came out of a man wasn't an easy truth to accept.

That and a snake-monster were a lot for someone to handle.

Her heart rate increased before slowing down again.

"You aren't my father." The words were casual, without hate, but they knocked the air out of my lungs.

"Your genes aren't mine."

"He's a giant snake," Angel said as if she didn't believe.

"Technically an armored worm," said Mike.

No, it was a snake, and I don't know why he insisted on calling Henry a worm, but I wasn't going to argue.

She rubbed her face, sighing. "I have memories and nightmares." We gave her the rundown, or as much as you can in a few minutes, but left the question for her.

"You gave me up!" Her voice cracked, rising in pitch. "Why? Why would you do that?" Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Did you not want me?"

Father and daughter cried, both unable to speak while diners again stared in our direction. My tears stayed inside because someone had to be strong.

"You would have been broken," said Mike. "I didn't have the power to fix you, at least not without a terrible cost."

She stared back, looking like a smaller, feminine mirror of her father. Although, she was more hippie-looking than Mike, even in the sixties.

"You had to forget about me," said Mike. "Otherwise, you would have had nightmares."

"Like I do now."

"Yes, but not as a five-year-old."

She looked off to the side, retreating into her private world, just like I've seen with Vietnam vets. She was fifteen, but some 'men' in my squad were only three years older. Different gender, country, and decade, but haunted eyes look the same.

"The two ladies," said Mike. "They told me I could keep someone who'd live a lonely life in terror, or you could have a family with sisters and years without nightmares."

"How would you know what happened? Hell, you don't know a single thing about me."

It was typical teenage arrogance and a whole lot of hurt slammed into Mike, but he answered. "Because those two don't lie, and I know you fought for your sisters. You refused to go with other couples who wanted a child because they wouldn't take everyone."

Her ice-blue eyes widened slightly.

He segued into birthdays, gifts from forgotten relatives, and things she forgot. "I love the paintings you've given as presents." He swallowed. "Of course, you don't call them 'doggies' anymore."

"Those dreams are true too?"

"Maybe?" said Mike. "That's the thing about magic. If you believe anything's possible…"

It was a tender moment, but I shot him a look and my ammonia smell begged him to stop. Belief or Disbelief exploding in a crowded restaurant would be fatal. Believing in the impossible was wonderful until it wasn't.

She stared at her hand, and she wouldn't try a test I'm sure, but she was young. "You can't shift until you're mated," I said. "That's how the magic works."

"Someone told me that once." It wasn't a question. Her blue eyes widened. "But you're both mated. Can y'all show me?"

***

We exited a restaurant between stares from a few men. I don't know what problem they had, but we were going out with our daughter. If anyone starts anything… Mike's hand slowly dropped down, telling me to please cool it.

We approached my black 'Knight Rider' sports car, and she wavered, but not out of fear. She faced two strange men, had her worldview altered, and pretty much knew magic existed, and there was a monstrous snake out there.

We were answers to questions and there was no going back. She'd be different.