The DRAGON Gene: A Sensational Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance (WereGenes Book 1) Page 3

  “She and her kids are the only blood relatives I have left on earth, even if they are only distant cousins,” my mom had said to me when explaining why she was helping her cousin financially, probably not even realizing that she’d just basically confirmed my lifelong “knowing” that I was adopted and wasn’t “blood” related to her.

  After finishing the letter, I moved on to the large white file she’d told me about, beginning to open it but then hesitating. I’d thought about what she’d said about the information contained in the file being “not good,” eventually deciding that I wanted to read it anyway, for better or worse. Even before my mom’s death, I’d started to have thoughts about wanting to learn who my biological parents were and find out if they were still alive.

  However, now that this information was possibly literally in my hands, I just wasn’t so sure I wanted to find out anymore, although for no particular reason. I supposed I was just scared. Scared specifically of two different scenarios. One, that I’d find out that both of my biological parents were deceased, like maybe my biological dad had died during my biological mom’s pregnancy, and then she had died during childbirth or something, and this was what had caused me to be placed for adoption.

  The second scenario was that I was afraid that I would discover that my biological parents hadn’t died but were terrible people that I’d never want to meet, like they’d both been put in prison for murder or something, and that was why I’d been placed for adoption.

  I knew that, often in life, it’s the things most feared that never end up coming true, and this turned out to be the case with the circumstances of my being placed for adoption. After taking a few deep breaths, I flipped open the white folder and began reading the top page inside, soon realizing that maybe I’d been conjuring pretty unlikely scenarios in order to avoid contemplating indifference or possible outright rejection by my biological parents.

  To whom it may concern, regarding baby girl adopted by Clark and Elise Donovan:

  Please find the following a compilation of pertinent information found elsewhere in the packet of records of which this letter is a part. The purpose is communicating specific details that parties involved in this adoption may find of interest at some point, as well as communicating details which otherwise might only be gleaned by perusing entire packet.

  We at Open Arms Adoption Services of Bentonville have found that many parties involved in the adoption process appreciate specificity in regards to our interaction with biological parents; so, unless we have been advised by adoptive parents that this is not wanted, as much specificity as possible will be included in this letter, including quotes from biological parents when relevant. All personal information about biological parents is given with permission of biological parent(s).

  (Personal note to adoptive parents from Betty P. McNally, author of this letter: I very strongly suggest that this letter is read in its entirety by the two of you before ever passing it on to your adopted child at any point, if it ever is. Some packet compilation letters are harder to write, and surely read, than others, and this is definitely a “harder.”)

  Baby’s biological mother, Misti Maree Miller, of Jackson’s Woods, Michigan, was eighteen at time of baby’s birth. Grew up in the foster care system. Mother and maternal grandparents deceased. Father unknown. History of severe drug addiction, although she managed to abstain for second and third trimesters of pregnancy after completing jail term of two weeks and court-ordered outpatient rehab. Passed court-ordered drug tests, except for one positive test for alcohol in third term. (Copies of these tests can be found in envelope marked Miscellaneous.)

  As to specific drugs used in first trimester, Miss Miller claims she “can’t remember,” although small amounts of methamphetamine, crack cocaine, and heroin were found on her person at time of arrest in first trimester. Doctors have declared her baby, a female, to be perfectly healthy, showing no signs of the drug use that surely occurred in first trimester.

  Miss Miller has signed away all rights to the baby, saying at the time of signing that she “has enough problems.” When asked by her probation officer in her eighth month of pregnancy why she had decided to bring her baby to term and place it for adoption, it became clear that Miss Miller was under the impression that she would be financially compensated.

  When referred to Open Arms Adoption Services of Bentonville, she was advised in no uncertain terms that this is not how reputable, legal adoption agencies operate. When asked if she wanted to view/hold the baby briefly post-birth, she declined. When asked if she wanted to provide a letter and/or picture(s) and/or any other memento for her baby, to be included in the “adoptive parent information packet,” of which this compilation letter will be a part, she also declined.

  When asked by her adoption services counselor if she wanted her name and information made available to her child for possible future contact, she replied, “I guess…if she wants to look me up and party someday.”

  Miss Miller has stated that she only remembers her baby’s father’s first name, Seth, and a nickname that he told her, which was “Puff.” As far as physical characteristics, she remembers him being fairly tall and well-built, with sandy blond hair and a distinct crescent-shaped scar above one eyebrow.

  Additionally, Miss Miller does remember one other quite interesting detail about her baby’s father. She claims that during their single evening spent together, he was able to morph into a dragon. Claimed he did it right there in the deserted elementary school playground. “Breathed fire for me and everything,” says Miss Miller. Obviously, she is recalling a hallucination she surely had while high on drugs.

  Miss Miller reports that her baby’s biological father was “maybe eighteen or nineteen,” and she also reports he did not give her any information as to where he resides. Miss Miller claims that he told her he was “just passing through town, looking for fun.” She also claims she has not seen him since and has had no way to contact him.

  When asked if her baby’s biological father could be any other man than the man she recalls as Seth, no last name, Miss Miller has stated that she’s “pretty sure” she “got pregnant by the dragon guy,” and that if it was anyone else, she doesn’t recall their name. Says she “might have messed around” with a “mohawk guy” at “some concert” during the month she conceived but “really can’t remember.” Baby’s biological father will be listed on all Open Arms Adoption Services of Bentonville records as “not known/unable to locate.”

  In the event of any questions about this condensed report or any of the records contained in the packet, please contact Open Arms Adoption Services of Bentonville. Thank you.

  Sincerely,

  Betsy P. McNally, adoption coordinator

  Feeling numb yet somehow mentally overstimulated at the same time, as if my brain was having difficulty processing the information I’d just read, I continued looking through the file, soon finding another letter from Betsy P. McNally to my parents, this one dated two weeks after my birth.

  I am writing today to share additional information about your daughter’s biological mother, as the two of you indicated you were not opposed to pertinent information. I have been notified by the Michigan state police that Misti Miller is now deceased, having died in a single vehicle accident yesterday, just outside of Detroit.

  She was the lone occupant of a vehicle owned and reported as stolen by a female acquaintance of hers. Miss Miller apparently lost control of the vehicle and struck a tree. In her jacket, a glass pipe containing crack cocaine residue was found. Our agency was contacted because our business card was found in a bag of clothing and post-maternity care items donated to Miss Miller by us, and the police thought we may be able to assist in locating Miss Miller’s next-of-kin. They have been advised that Miss Miller had no next-of-kin.

  Her remains will be interred unmarked in something the police refer to as a “pauper’s lot” in Detroit. I am not certain about the location of this lot, but I am certain the information
could be provided if desired and requested in a timely manner.

  In the event of any questions about this letter, please contact Open Arms Adoption Services of Bentonville. Thank you.

  Sincerely,

  Betsy P. McNally, adoption coordinator

  Still feeling somehow numb, I read the letter without any moisture at all rising in my eyes until I saw my mom’s handwriting in pen at the bottom.

  Kylie- Just so you know, if you ever do read this as an adult, your dad and I paid to have Misti buried in a cemetery in her hometown of Jackson’s Woods. We also bought a nice granite headstone and had it engraved with her name, dates of birth and death, and a rose. Dad thought the rose was “frivolous,” but to me, it seemed polite and respectful to add something other than just a name and dates. The stonecutter agreed, saying that a rose seemed extremely polite and respectful, especially for the headstone of a teenage girl.

  It was the phrase teenage girl that made my tears overflow, and I set the letter and the file aside before covering my face with my hands, crying over the drug-addicted teenage girl who had been my biological mother, and mourning her short, surely-hard life. I realized I’d already forgiven her for her uncaring attitude toward me the moment I’d read the words grew up in foster care system that Betty P. McNally had written in her first letter.

  Having no way to search for my possible biological dad without his last name, I moved on with my life. I had no other choice but to.

  Now, in the present, over one year later, staring at the results of my shifter gene test in the lobby of my apartment building, I knew this wasn’t the case. Based on the details I’d read about him in my adoption report, I believed that my dad was now findable. After all, shifters were a much smaller group than average American men. There couldn’t be many shifters named Seth and nicknamed Puff that had a distinct crescent-shaped scar above one eyebrow.

  I just needed to get an “in” with a shifter group so that I could do some investigating and asking around to find him. And luckily, Greenwood, the shifter community where Amy thought women with the shifter gene from Moxon would be “assigned,” was only about an hour from Jackson’s Woods, where apparently, I had been conceived.

  Meaning that maybe my biological dad had come down to Jackson’s Woods from one of the small mid-Michigan or Northern Michigan towns where many of the Greenwood shifters were said to have originally come from. Maybe my biological dad currently lived in Greenwood.

  This had all bubbled up in my mind a couple of times during the previous year; however, not being sure that my biological dad really had been a shifter and not just a drug hallucination, and also not sure if the man named Seth really was my dad and not the “mohawk guy” or another guy my biological mom had been with, I just hadn’t felt motivated to pursue things.

  Now, however, with the results of my shifter gene test proving that I was the daughter of a shifter, I not only felt motivated to pursue things, but almost compelled to. As it was, in the time since I’d taken the test and had been waiting for the results, I’d become more and more excited about the possibility of marrying a dragon shifter, having children, and paying off my debts in the process.

  Now, I had one more reason to want to join a shifter community, and it was a pretty big one. I just hoped Amy would be able to join me in the experience. Knowing that she might have also received a letter in her mailbox that day, I soon flew out of the lobby and raced up to the third floor of the building to knock on her apartment door, which was only two down from mine.

  With my letter in hand, I began speaking the moment she opened her apartment door. “I got it. I got my shifter gene test results, and I have it. I have the shifter gene. Meaning, my biological dad was for sure a dragon shifter. He was the guy named Seth that I told you about from my biological mom’s adoption agency report. My biological dad is a dragon shifter named Seth, nicknamed Puff, and I have proof now, and I want to find him. He might currently live in the community of dragons in Greenwood. And even if he doesn’t, maybe those dragons can help me find him. They have to, Amy, right? I mean, once I tell them about how my adoptive parents are both dead, and about how my biological mom is dead, and how finding Mr. Decker is my only hope….”

  Realizing that I’d said Mr. Decker and not my biological dad, Seth, as I should have, I suddenly became teary-eyed. I didn’t even know why.

  Wearing an expression of clear sympathy, Amy pulled me inside her apartment and shut the door. “Just relax for a second, Ky. I’ve never seen you so discombobulated in your entire life.”

  “Well, I know I’m ‘discombobulated.’ But just think about this. I might be able to find my biological dad. And, by the way, that was what I meant to say a minute ago, instead of Mr. Decker. I meant to say my biological dad. He’d be probably forty-five or forty-six now…and I just have a hunch that if he’s still alive, maybe he lives in Greenwood…or is at least known to people that live there, anyway. My bio mom, Misti, told the adoption agency that he told her that he was just ‘passing through’ Jackson’s Woods, looking for some fun,’ so him being from one of the little Michigan towns that the people in Greenwood are said to be originally from would make perfect sense.”

  A hot tear rolled down my cheek just then, irritating me, and I hastily wiped it away before continuing.

  “I’m going to call the Genetic Testing Commission and tell them that I want to join the National Shifter Mating Program, specifically requesting that I be ‘assigned’ to a shifter in Greenwood. Then, once I’m there, I’ll start my search for Mr. Decker. I mean…oh my God. My bio dad. I’ll start my search for my bio dad. See, Seth might have been kind of ‘wild,’ like Misti, at the time I was conceived, but they were just teenagers then. Maybe Seth has settled down and is a really wonderful man now. Maybe he has a family now, and kids…maybe he even helped fight off the Bloodborn dragons during the war. At any rate, I want to go to Greenwood, and I want to find him. I want to find Mr. Decker.” Realizing that I’d said Mr. Decker yet again, I cringed, sending a fresh tear falling down my cheek. “God. I’m getting a lot of things really confused in my mind right now, aren’t I?”

  Still wearing a sympathetic expression, Amy reached a hand out and gave my shoulder a squeeze. “I understand…and you’re definitely going to have to find your bio dad in Greenwood, and quickly. If for nothing else so that you don’t accidentally marry a blood relative.”

  “What?”

  “Think about it, Ky. If your bio dad is a shifter from the same community of dragon shifters as the shifter husband you’re paired with, you’ll probably want to make sure you’re not marrying your half-brother or a cousin or something.”

  “Oh, my gosh, you’re right.”

  The thought hadn’t even occurred to me yet.

  Offering me a small smile, Amy gave my shoulder another squeeze. “At any rate, I’ll be there to help you look for Seth and figure all this out. I’m going to call the Genetic Testing Commission and tell them that I want to join the NSMP, too. And, like you, I’ll specifically request to be ‘assigned’ to a shifter in Greenwood.”

  Just trying to make my overloaded brain work, I just stared at Amy for a second. “You mean…did you get a letter today, too?”

  She gave me another little smile, nodding. “I just opened mine like two seconds ago. I’ve had it sitting on my table for an hour since I got home from the store, but it just got ‘lost’ in a pile of junk mail, so I didn’t even realize it was from the Genetic Testing Commission right away.”

  “Well, and? What does it say? Do you for sure have the shifter gene, too?”

  Amy said yes, she did. “And I think I’m still in shock about it. My grandpa had to have actually been a shifter. That feels so completely strange to say. ‘My grandpa was a dragon shifter.’ Guess we’d better get used to the idea that we’re descended from dragon shifters, though. And while we’re doing that, maybe we should call the Genetic Testing Commission right now. We don’t need Greenwood becoming full of shifter-gene-posi
tive brides before we do, right?”

  I agreed that we should call the Commission right away, and we soon did. And within forty-eight hours, Amy and I were on the road, traveling to Greenwood, ready to meet the dragon shifter husbands that the commission had paired us with.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Only when we were maybe a half-hour away from Greenwood did I start thinking about the fact that not only might I soon find my bio dad, but I was soon going to become a wife and possibly a mother, too. During the previous two days, after Amy and I had made our calls to the Genetic Testing Commission, I’d really been so focused on possibly finding Seth that the reason I was going to Greenwood in the first place had been the furthest thing from my mind. Not to mention that I’d been just a bit busy packing up the contents of my apartment and saying numerous goodbyes to friends in town.

  Now that the idea of meeting my new husband was finally on my mind, I glanced over at Amy, who was sitting in the passenger seat of my ten-year-old car, and asked her if she felt ready to meet her new husband. She’d been quiet during the drive and now looked almost anxious, somehow.

  Before responding to my question, she gave me a little smile that didn’t reach all the way up to her eyes. “I guess I’m as ready to meet my new husband as I’ll ever be.”

  “Well, for a person who seemed really excited about all this before we got tested for the shifter gene, you don’t sound very enthused. You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

  Staring at snow flurries melting on the windshield, she didn’t answer right away. “No…not cold feet. I’m pretty committed to marrying whatever shifter I’m matched with, having kids, paying off the business debt, and all the rest. I guess maybe I’m just getting a little anxious, wondering if I’m actually going to like the shifter I’m matched with…and that’s really all I need, by the way. I just need to generally like him as a person in order to sleep with him and have kids with him. That’s it. It definitely doesn’t have to be a ‘head-over-heels in love’ thing between us. Just a relationship of mutual ‘like’ and hopefully mutual respect. I can’t deny that ‘head-over-heels in love’ would be a pretty nice bonus, though.”