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Chapter 53 – Robert Delaney (Ansel Conrad POV) Pt. 4

Six hours later, a few details in place, supplies ordered, we drive up the crushed granite driveway that is worn and old, nature taking over. When we come to a stop, my fathers brother is already on the porch, waiting.

Dad and I are the first to leave the bus, in fact I had asked that everyone remain on it because I wanted to vet each person individually but first, I wanted to speak with my father's brother – Foster.

Jogging up to the porch, Fosters breath is seen in the cold air. I let my father approach him first, getting their greetings out of the way, let the teasing go on before we get to the seriousness of my Den's arrival in Rawlins Wyoming.

"Come in – come in guys," Foster hurries us in, his voice low and rough. Scratchy.

"Why aren't the others coming?" he asks while dad and I wipe the bottoms of our shoes on the entrance rugs. "This is not a pleasure vacation," my father answers, waiting for Foster to close the door.

A few more wrinkles than my father, Foster was the same silver fox that my father was. Mustache and hair line gray.

Dad and I follow Foster to the living room. Eight-foot pine tree decorated with brightly wrapped gifts placed under. It dawns on me that this just might be the first Christmas that Lenah and I do not spend with our children.

I inhale deeply, filling my nose with a rich pine and vanilla aroma.

"What's going on guys?" Foster asks just as Morgana – his wife – enters the room. Strawberry blonde hair shoulder length in the front and longer in the back, she enters the room in an old ratty shirt and black yoga pants.

"Hey guys," she comes over, greeting dad and I before turning around, "where is everyone?" she questions perplexed.

"Outside," I give my one word answer. Morgana slowly sits down next to Foster, one leg underneath her, the other crossed over it.

Never would I settle down in such close proximity to Colorado, where Alpha Monet treated his pack as slaves to do with whatever he pleased. Yet, Foster and Morgana had done just that. Sticking to a small town, where Foster was the general dentist and Morgana a certified registered nurse anesthetists.

I open my mouth; ready to divulge partial truths, but decide to start the safest way I could think.

It would kill me to do to Foster and Morgana what I did to Berty, but I would. Reaching behind my back, heart racing, I speak. "Who is Robert Delaney?" I ask feeling the Glock against my back.

"It will be quick. When the question is asked, it is like the air they breathe, they will spit out the riddle," Naomi had coached. Hyperaware when two seconds pass and they only frown in confusion, my shoulders sag and the hand that was primed to pull out the Glock, I run it through my hair. Gripping my hair, I'm close to pulling out chunks of hair, hair follicles and all.

"Who is Robert Delaney? Is – has he moved to Rawlins recently?" Morgana asks, us, eyes shifting from dad, to Foster, back to me. They aren't working with the Elders, just stupid to live two hours from Colorado, I think relieved.

I'm not sure informing Foster and Morgana would even be useful come to think about it. They're going to remain put, live life as humans until eventually they'd be forced to move since Foster and Morgana had stopped aging and it would become noticeable in two to four years.

"We have a few problems," I say my heart slowing, "we aren't just passing through, we are actually moving away from Bend."

"I thought – you said that there would be a few years still?" Foster asks dad his blue eyes filled with worry. "Do you remember Nick Romas?"

Foster nods.

"Well, he has decided to contact the Elders. He is going to ask them why the women cannot shift-"

"What?" Morgana's eyes widen to the size of silver dollars, "Did – he's going – who cares that we cannot shift? It is not as though we are on our death beds because of our inability to shift." Foster nods, his gaze shifting upwards to the balcony.

If memory served me right, those four doors belonged to his three children.

"I understand that you have made a home here," Foster cocks his head to the side, blue eyes searching my face. "Nick had access to information about the shifters and possible locations-"

"Possible locations? You are not sure that he is a threat?"

I blink, how do I explain this. "Our systems were hacked, the servers and they were left vulnerable. We are not sure who else has accessed the servers but Angela is on that. However, with what Nick is planning I believe he will need girls to approach the Elders with. For the last nine months, many families of our kind have reached out to me, only to vanish."

I feel like Morgana has the ultimate skill of keeping her eyes as wide as possible without a single blink in minutes. She must be in some type of shock.

"That is not the only threat," I continue.

"How could there possibly be more?"

I scoff, shaking my head. They had no idea.

"Did Lewis tell you of the fire at the kids school?"

Both nod. "Well, the girl that saved Talia, as you know we took her in. She had an unusual upbringing and has a few beliefs that we – Kalenah and I – assumed to be false, basic brainwashing."

Foster reaches for his wife's hand, holding it and waiting for me to continue.

"She was under the impression that the air we breathed was polluted and that to venture outside that you needed to wear a hazmat suit. So clearly, we knew she was wrong."

Morgana frowns deeply.

"The air?"

I nod. "Yes. She is a special girl, and while the air is not poisonous now, I can tell you that after many truths, that what she believed is something that will most definitely occur."

Foster begins chuckling, while I stare at him blankly. My father silent as well besides me.

"The air is going to be poisonous? Is a meteor going to come down from the sky and-"

"Foster," Morgana hits Fosters bicep. She does not look away from me. "I – I don't think they're joking."

Ah. She understands.

"I just shot a man hours ago, killing him dead because of information I've learned. He works for the Elders and was dating Michelle-"

"Berty?" Morgana asks with wide eyes. "He was not working for the Elders, Berty is the girls teacher." Okay so Morgana knew of Berty then.

"He worked for the Elders. I shot and killed him, and Lewis, everyone from his homestead have decided to follow us. Now again, I understand that you've built a life here, however, I want you to know that danger is on its way. The Elders are planning something and the girl that saved my Talia... she is a Fae. One that we believe is a Seer."

Heaving a long heavy sigh, Foster runs a hand over his hair.

"There is plenty I'm not telling you, but I am informing you that based on what we know, this home," I look up at the ceiling, the small crevices that poisonous air could easily contaminate inside this home.

"When," I stress, "When the future that this girl see's comes to fruition, I promise you, if you're living in this house – you and your children will die."

The two heartbeats across from me spike and Foster swallows thickly. "What timeline are we looking at here?"

"That is something we are unaware of. At this point, I have floor plans to create what is needed. I've begun putting together what we will need to survive when this damage occurs. If you choose not to follow me when I leave here, that is truly the last you will hear of us Foster."

Foster and Morgana turn their gaze onto one another, having a private conversation. One I've had many times over with my Lenah.

"Foster," my father, Jonah speaks to his brother. "I understand your position, as vague as Ansel is being, but he is not speaking of hypotheticals. This future will happen, and when it does I'd want you, Morgana and the kids to be safe. Staying here... you're doing well, but not enough to ensure that you will be protected."

Worry is etched on their faces. Good, I think. They needed to be wary and fearful.

"When you leave, Morgana and I, the kids too, will follow you," I nod sharply. "You know the deal then."

"No electronics and tell no one where you are going." They both nod in agreement, and I feel my father deflate besides me. His worry quelled now that one more of his siblings have agreed to come with me.

If I had a snowballs chance to get done what was needed, instead of bringing few along, we needed many.

"I understand that you are a dentist and you a nurse, but when we arrive at the final location, you should know that the first months, will be spent preparing for what is to come," I warn them ahead of time.

His brows furrow, but Foster remains silent.

"What do you mean prepare?"

"As of now, there are only a few homes completed. We will be cramped for a while. Together as a Den, we will build our homes. But there is more," I pause exhausted, "The plan is to create our own farm, grow our produce, become self-dependent."

"The future can come in months or maybe years, but I would rather we are prepared and safe then, blindsided and starving, if the poisonous air doesn't kill us first."

I have my last say, plan with Foster and Morgana and then, one by one; I have my father bring in each person that left with me. Asking each individual 'who is Robert Delaney?'

By the twentieth person, and many more to go, my nerves are as frazzled as can be. My hand grasps my Glock ready each time, until finally I've made my way through everyone and the rush of dread that was drowning me clears like gray clouds on a rainy day.

Before we sleep that night, I call Antone, checking in and informing him of what Naomi had divulged to us. We go on the road rested, with five more people accompanying us. Two stops, seven hundred miles and twenty hours later, Antone contacts me.

The phone buzzes and once it shows that it is Antone, Angela and I both stiffen. The only reason Antone would call instead of waiting for me is if there was trouble.

I look up and my gaze connects with Kalenah, while Angela's breathing became shallow, Lenah's sped up as she gnawed on her bottom lip.

My hand darts out, grabbing the phone, turning it on, "Antone?" I ask, voice shaking. The sigh dad releases makes Kalenah rush forward, just barely keeping her panic at bay in that moment.

"Ansel – we're fine – all of us. No one is injured, however, we seem to have run into," he pauses, exhaling, "Who?" Angela barks impatiently.

"Devin Rosario," I blink dread building and instantly, I wish to be where Antone and the others were. "What. Did. Brennan. Do?" I grit out. He called her. Warned her somehow before we left Bend. Disobeyed a direct order from me.

"Ansel..." the tenderness in Antone's tone throws me off. "The girl is a mess, but, uhm, she said that," why does his voice sound so damn tearful?

"She was traveling and overheard Taylor say something," Antone reveals, but it mostly feels as though he's beating around the bush for some reason. "Just spit it out Antone," I demand, eyes on Lenah. Brows pushed together in question; I can do nothing but shrug. I know what she knows.

"Devin overheard Taylor saying that she is responsible for Silas' death. That – that s-she," I look at the phone my vision blurred, heart heavy and only becoming worse. "Taylor is the one that tampered with the plane."

The world that I had gotten to spin, everything Angela, mom, Naomi, Kalenah and I worked on as we travelled all fell off its axis. The broken part of my heart, that fissure I had begun working to heal is cut right open, deeper, painful and all consuming. 

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© 2016 roxann_season All Rights Reserved

So I've added the Rawlins, Wyoming stop to Ansel and family :) 

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The print is probably too small to read on here but I have this posted on facebook as well, so you can check it out there. It's a fluid timeline.