Changeling Moon (14 page)

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Authors: Dani Harper

BOOK: Changeling Moon
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“That's what Bill said when he brought him a second steak,” laughed Devlin. “I'm sure the
poor dog
will have a very good time getting over his trauma. Speaking of trauma, what about you?”
“Me?”
“You're a hell of a brave woman. One wolf bite already and two wolves prepared to fight to the death over you. Yet you didn't even scream.”
“There wasn't time,” she said simply, then thought about what he'd said. “Wait a minute, you think the wolves were fighting over me? Why would they do that?”
Suddenly Devlin looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Well, it just looked that way. I mean, you were on the ground with an injured leg and all, so it was very
Wild Kingdom
. Sort of like lions fighting over a lame gazelle, don't you think?”
Prey
. Zoey suppressed a shiver. “Why me? Why not the steaks, why not the entire buffet? Why not Fletcher, or even Jessie for that matter? She's a lot smaller than me.”
He coughed into his hand unexpectedly as if stifling a laugh, then cleared his throat. “Well, that's what wild wolves do. They single out the wounded and the weak from a herd very quickly. Every instinct they have is wired for that purpose.”
“Great. What you're saying is that I'm wolf bait.” Zoey slumped back on the couch and surveyed her freshly bandaged calf resting on the coffee table. Wondered idly if it was going to be difficult to repair the side seam on the leg of her blue jeans, which Lowen had neatly snipped from ankle to knee. Without warning, her psychic senses flickered into life. She searched Devlin's face and was surprised to learn that despite his pleasant expression, he was extremely angry. Not at her. At the wolves—wait, that wasn't quite right. Only at the
gray
wolf. Fear or surprise she could understand, but why would someone be
angry
toward a wolf? More than angry—
furious
. A chill zipped through her, and she shivered as she rubbed her upper arms. “Do you know where Connor is?”
Devlin draped his jacket around her before she could think to protest. “He went after the wolf, of course.”
“He
what
?”
“Just to investigate, mind you,” Devlin added hastily. “And Culley went with him—that's my twin brother by the way. They should be back in a couple hours or so.”
So much for confronting Connor about ditching her. Zoey looked at her watch. It was already late. “I'd better go home . . .” she began but Devlin held up a hand.
“I'm relieving the bartender in a few minutes, so maybe you'd let me make you a drink first. I'll bet you could use one. Or several.” He waggled his brows. “I make a wicked Long Island Iced Tea and a decadent Chocolate Martini, or if you want something more suited to the journalistic field, a Jack Sour.”
What the hell.
Zoey made a rare decision. “Maybe a friendly bartender is exactly what I need right about now. It's been a very long, very strange day.”
 
Jessie was quiet as Connor delivered the news. She stood with folded arms, the picture of stillness, until he was done. She raised her head then and Connor could feel the punch of raw energy, see the flash of barely suppressed fury in her golden eyes. Her inner wolf was close to the surface, causing Connor's own to be watchful.
“Something's very wrong,” she said at last. “But we can't deal with Bernie now. There are still human guests to attend to. The Pack will meet at Elk Point tomorrow night at dusk.” She shook her head, and seemed to shake off her anger as well, although Connor had no doubt it had simply gone deep. The Pack would meet, as she said. And then it would go hunting. . . .
He turned to leave but Jessie put a hand on his arm.
“
Two
wolves crashed my party, mister.”
“I'm sorry about that, Jess,” he said.
“Bad enough that people saw one wolf, without a second one adding to the chaos.”
“I know.”
She scrutinized him. “You're not the impulsive type, Connor. It wasn't a conscious choice on your part, was it?”
“Hell
no
.” It was embarrassing to admit he'd lost control. “The wolf took over.”
“That tells me Bernie wasn't just being an asshole. He must have intended to do harm, for your wolf to react like that.”
He snorted. “No one else's wolves popped out.”
“No, they didn't. Just yours.” She looked thoughtful and added, “I'll bet Zoey was the target the whole time then. Bernie must have intended to finish the job he started.”
Immediately Connor's inner wolf snarled at the thought. He struggled to hold his alter ego in check as the hair on the back of his neck bristled. “Dammit, Jessie, don't say things like that.”
Jessie tightened her grip on his arm and the creature within him quieted somewhat. As Pack leader, Jessie naturally possessed a great deal of power, but it was impossible not to be more than a little amazed when she exerted it. After all, she barely came up to Connor's chest. She amazed him further with her words. “Your inner wolf knows more than you do, or you wouldn't be so surprised by its actions. Zoey Tyler is your mate.”
Chapter Fourteen
C
onnor should have been shocked. At least he figured he
ought
to be a helluva lot more than mildly surprised. Instead, he felt as if a dozen puzzle pieces had suddenly clicked neatly into place. “That's why she saw my wolf tonight, isn't it? And why my wolf is so on edge?”
“Nothing can be hidden from a mate. And our wolves often recognize a mate long before we do. It's happened more than once in our own Pack. Look at Geoff Lassiter.”
He nodded. Geoff had known that Melly Chalmers was his mate ever since they were in high school together. He'd had to wait years, however, for her to come to the same conclusion.
“I've known Zoey for just over a week.” It felt longer though. And it felt
right
. But from a human standpoint, it was far too soon to tell her so. He'd have to be patient, although he hoped he wouldn't have to wait as long as Geoff had. Meanwhile, something else bothered him. “Look, is the wolf going to take over every damn time I'm around Zoey? I don't remember this happening to anyone else when they found a mate.”
“That's because our numbers are small and most pairings are between Changeling and human. Our inner wolf only comes to the forefront when the mate is also a Changeling, and only because it needs to communicate with the other's wolf during the first mating.”
“Zoey—”
“Zoey isn't a Changeling, I know,” Jessie said. “But she may not be fully human. She has powerful gifts we haven't seen before. Frankly, I'm not sure
what
she is. And I don't think she knows either.”
Connor remembered the split-second vision he'd had the night of the ice storm, when he'd first held Zoey Tyler. About the strange cavalcade of animals that flashed through his mind. But his
farsight
had shown him nothing more so he'd chalked up the incident to his own fatigue. Still did. As for gifts, many human beings had latent abilities—telepathy, telekinesis, precognition—but they went untapped and undiscovered. Zoey might have more talents than most, but she was still human. His wolfen instincts weren't telling him anything different. He shook his head and focused on his present dilemma. “So what the hell do I do?”
“You'll have to tell her what you are, and soon, before your wolf blows your cover. And, if I were you, I'd cement the relationship so your wolf will settle down.”
Cement the relationship?
“You mean—”
“Uh-huh. Getting married is nice too, but that's for your human side. Once it recognizes its true mate, the wolfen side declares its bond during sex. And as you know, it's for keeps.”
He nodded. He knew that. No doubt a human male would be more than a little freaked out by the whole
mate-for-life
thing, especially on such short notice. Connor, however, was Changeling. He could easily picture spending the rest of his long lifetime memorizing every one of Zoey's freckles . . . and his body stirred to life at the thought. Still, he had a problem. “Jess, I'm not sure it's possible to cement anything with the wolf emerging at—uh—
critical moments
.”
Jessie chuckled. “I imagine that's been mighty awkward for you. Don't worry, I have a gris-gris—a charmed amulet—that will keep the wolf at bay. It's impossible to Change while you're wearing it.” Her expression sobered quickly. “Just don't forget to take it off when the bond is complete. The charm has residual effects, and you might not be able to Change for a couple of days or so. Meanwhile, you need to stay as close as possible to her, Connor. She needs your protection until we've dealt with Bernie. Lowen looked at her leg again tonight and it's not pretty.”
“Well, sure, it's scary-looking with all that bruising but—”
“The wounds have opened up and started bleeding again like they were fresh.”
Bleeding? “I know she was suddenly in a lot of pain and—” And he'd abandoned her to go after Bernie. He smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. “I left her.”
“She was in pain because her sire was here and
in wolfen form
. The presence of his powerful and discordant energies had a very grave effect on the original bite wound.”
“The only thing powerful about Bernie is his breath. He's a damn nasty old drunk, but he doesn't have any power to speak of.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized that the
nasty old drunk
had mysteriously overcome the effects of silver nitrate, and just outrun two younger, stronger wolves. How? He racked his brain, trying to think of some detail he might have missed during his visit to the Gervais farm, but came up blank. “I don't know what the hell to think, Jess.”
“He's not the Bernie we know. Something's changed and it isn't for the better. We'll figure it out tomorrow when the Pack gets together. Right now, you'd better look in on your lady.”
Connor sighed. “Wish me luck, because I have no idea what I'm going to say to her. Where is she?”
“Out cold in the guest bedroom.”
“
What?
”
“She's okay, just had a few drinks with Devlin. She'll probably have a helluva headache in the morning, but all in all, I figure it was a pretty good antidote to everything that's happened to her today. Probably good for you too,” Jessie teased and called back over her shoulder as she walked away, “Buys you a little more time to think up something to say.”
Connor shook his head and headed for the house. If he had years to think about it, he knew full well he'd still come up blank. Goddammit, he'd just been trying to make things right after walking out of Zoey's apartment earlier in the week. True, he'd had the chance to bring her luscious body to peak this time—and parts of him immediately stirred to rampant life—but he'd still gone charging off without a single word. He doubted that the orgasm he'd given her was going to gain him many points.
He stopped to examine Fletcher, who was stretched out beside a lawn chair. The yellow Lab was once again the epitome of placid friendliness.
Culley and Bill joined the tall vet as he knelt by the dog. Bill's reddish brows were knitted together in concern. “Is Fletcher all right then?”
“He's fine.” Connor gave the dog a final pat and stood. “He was just being protective.”
Bill spat. “Shouldn't have needed to be protective in his own backyard! That Bernie must be bloody mad.”
“Crazy or not, Bernie shouldn't have been able to Change at all,” said Culley. “We all know it's not possible with that much silver nitrate in his veins. But I've been thinking—what if there's something wrong with the silver?”
That just can't be . . .
Connor felt in his jacket for the bottle. It was dangerous cargo for a Changeling, but it also had many uses for a healer, both metaphysical and medical. He always carried it with him, and had topped it up from the gallon glass jug in the clinic's pharmacy before he'd even met Zoey. Filled it again twice since then. The jug was silver nitrate without doubt—he'd spilled a tiny drop on his finger a couple months ago when the jug was new. The nitrate had burned like acid and rinsing the spot did no good. He'd finally had to ask Birkie for a charmed balm to douse the invisible fire.
Still. . . .
He pulled the little bottle out of his pocket. Silver nitrate was colorless and odorless. It looked exactly like water.
“Maybe the manufacturer labeled it wrong, maybe it doesn't have the potency it's supposed to,” suggested Culley. “Does the stuff expire or something? We should get Devlin to do a test on it.”
Connor stared at the bottle.
A test.
Without a word, he spun open the cap and splashed the contents over the palm of his hand.
Bill leapt backward off his chair to avoid the flying droplets. “Bloody hell, Connor! What are you trying to do?”
His friend needn't have worried. There was no pain. Nothing.
Not a damn thing!
Connor should have been writhing on the ground in agony. The fact that he wasn't didn't bring him any comfort. He would have felt much better if the stuff had burned a hole clear through his hand.
Cautiously, he sniffed the moisture in his cupped palm, touched a finger to it, then his tongue.
“Water.” He looked at his friend and his brother with stricken eyes. “Dear God, it's just plain
water
.” Connor's mind reeled with the implications of his discovery. Small wonder Bernie could still
Change
, but that was far from the worst of it.
Culley said it aloud. His voice was low and calm but the words hammered at Connor nonetheless. “Zoey wasn't treated in time. Not treated at all. She's going to Change soon and she doesn't know a thing about it. And she's subject to that rotten bastard Bernie.”
Connor closed his eyes as the full horror of the situation washed over him. Born a Changeling, he was subject to no one. But humans who became Changelings were in the power of the one who had bitten them, the sire. They could be found by their sire anywhere, anytime, summoned and even compelled to obey. Nature had intended it as a built-in safety feature. If you sired someone, you were responsible for them. You had to take care of them until they could control themselves—and once in a rare while you had to take control
for
them so they wouldn't hurt themselves or anybody else.
The potential for the misuse of such power wasn't a concern in most cases, since siring was usually done between mates. And the power of the sire wore off naturally with time, just as the need for it dissipated. His own mother had sired his father, and their loving relationship had now spanned centuries. Jessie had sired Bill just over a decade ago, and she wouldn't dream of so much as compelling him to take out the garbage. But Bernie was selfish at best, vicious and sadistic at worst. As a sire, he could force Zoey to do almost anything against her will. And he was no longer in control of himself. The fact that he had attacked a human being proved that.
Connor was sick at heart when he finally let himself into the guestroom, but even so, the sight of Zoey almost tugged the corners of his mouth into a smile. She was deeply asleep, her russet hair a riot of waves over the pillow. She was snoring loudly and her feet hung off the side of the bed. He set about rearranging her, easing her onto her side to quell the snoring. He kissed her forehead and gently pulled the bedding over her.
He'd like nothing more than to slip under the blankets too and hold her tightly. Instead, he settled into an armchair by the window and watched her. He'd never felt so helpless in his life.
A first Change always occurred on a full moon, although an experienced Changeling could shift at will. The light of the half moon glimmered faintly through the window and fell across the bed where Zoey lay. Connor had nineteen days at most to prepare her.
Nineteen days to win her trust, reveal my Changeling nature, break the news to her that she's going to turn into a wolf, and coach her on the upcoming experience. No problem.
Christ.
 
Zoey awoke to a room ablaze with color. Vibrant sun poured in the window like a golden syrup, making every garish pink rose on the bright yellow quilt, the yellow wallpaper, and the yellow rug stand out with appalling clarity. She squinted at the spectacle, wishing she'd stopped at a couple or three or five drinks. This kind of decor could be fatal to anyone with a hangover, and she had a whopper.
She sat up on the edge of the bed with a groan, and stayed there for several moments until she was sure her brain wasn't going to burst from the change in altitude.
Eeyew.
Her tongue felt like a terrycloth towel left six weeks in a football player's locker. She needed water, aspirin, and especially a toothbrush. But in the end it was the need to pee that finally persuaded her to make a move. The en suite bathroom didn't look too far away . . . . Slowly she leaned forward to shift her weight to her legs and paused, hesitant to move further.
“Need a hand?” asked a deep male voice from the other side of the room.
Zoey jerked in surprise and swore as the jolt knifed through her brain. “What the hell are you doing in here?” she whispered fiercely. She didn't dare yell, although she certainly wanted to. She remained seated and turned—carefully—to peer at Connor through squinted eyes. “Can't a girl get a little privacy? I'm not—” She almost said she wasn't dressed but then realized she'd slept in her clothes.
Double eeyew.
“Just watching over you while you slept. Thought that party-crashing wolf might have given you more night-mares.”
“Thanks, but I've been able to sleep by myself since I was three.” Aware that Connor's eyes were on her, she reflexively tried to comb her hair with her fingers. A mistake—even her scalp hurt! She gave up and glared at him as best she could while still keeping her eyelids shuttered against the blinding sunlit colors. Her body protested as she got to her feet only a little awkwardly, straightening her shirt as she swallowed a groan—then headed for the en suite bathroom with as much dignity as she could muster.

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