Changeling Moon (19 page)

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Authors: Dani Harper

BOOK: Changeling Moon
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All of her senses were startled as he kissed her ankle. A single hot, openmouthed kiss, followed by a light swirl of tongue. She shivered as he breathed over the spot and planted another kiss on the other ankle, then eased her legs apart. She trembled as he kissed his way slowly up her left leg, taking his time until she was sure she would scream. She did cry out as he kissed her right leg, above and below the bandages, but it certainly wasn't from pain. Eventually he lapped up the little droplet of moisture on her inner thigh, and the ones that had followed it. Closer, closer. . . . His hot mouth kissed its way over her cheeks, adding soft gentle bites. She was shaking, she couldn't help it, and she was on the verge of begging when his big hands suddenly parted her and his hot wet tongue slicked over her in one long stroke from clit to tailbone.
The orgasm slammed into her with all the force of a tsunami, and she might have been knocked from the couch by the intense wave, except that Connor held her securely, his big hands cupped around her hips. As her body throbbed and pulsed, he breathed over her folds and began lapping at them again, penetrating them with his tongue, licking around her swollen pearl until she came a second time.
The pleasure was nothing short of devastating. Finally he stood behind her, using the head of his cock like a giant's finger to stroke the length of her crease. Breathless, Zoey managed to call Connor's name. It was both a plea and a summons, and he answered it, sliding smoothly into her until he had filled her completely. To her surprise, he stopped, holding himself there in perfect stillness. For an instant she savored his size, the incredible heat that radiated from him inside her. So big. So hot. And then some primal instinct erupted and she thrust her hips wildly, impaling herself gladly and still unable to get enough. She nearly wept with relief when he pulled her from the couch and flipped her over on the plush rug, plunged into her deep and hard. Faster and faster. She dug her fingernails into the muscles of his butt, needing to pull him into her even further, needing to be in one skin.
They imploded together, and it was as if they had leapt from the balcony. Zoey felt airborne, ethereal—and inextricably blended with Connor like twining breezes among the stars. She drew a great shuddering breath and the physical world returned. Connor was half-draped over her, sheltering her, warming her, the weight of him a secure blanket. She planted a kiss on his chest where his heart pounded in rhythm with hers, and received a warm kiss on her forehead in return. Sighing, she closed her eyes and allowed sleep to take her.
Instead, a dream took her over.
In it, Zoey wandered to the balcony. The bright stars seemed to direct her to the stairs and she followed them down to the yard. But it was not Connor's farmyard. There were few trees here, and the buildings were painted dark, perhaps red. It was hard to tell when the light of the waning half-moon washed away all color. Clumps of brush and wild grass dotted the yard and surrounded a small house with a swayback roof. The open windows emitted the sound of a television cranked up as loud as it would go. The owner must be deaf or nearly so—
Zoey spun as frantic bawling erupted from a nearby corral. Cattle stamped and ran, their flanks heaving. Several bashed into the wooden rails of the fence, knocking it down. A dozen cows poured through the break, stampeding wildly into the night. And close on their heels was her own worst nightmare, the grizzled gray wolf. Soundlessly it followed the cattle, slashing at their flanks with gleaming teeth. Finally, it singled one out and leapt for its throat, bringing the big animal down as easily as a lamb. Terrified, Zoey pressed herself behind the wall of a shed, watching in horror as the enormous wolf gave chase and pulled down each of the cows in turn until all lay dead or twitching on the ground.
The sound of the television stopped abruptly, leaving an eerie stillness in its wake. A porch light came on and a man emerged from the house, silhouetted in the doorway long enough for Zoey to see that he had a gun. Slowly, cautiously, he stepped down into the yard, looking this way and that. As the moonlight illuminated his face, Zoey was certain that she had seen him before, but she didn't know his name.
Suddenly he spotted the broken fence of the corral and ran to it, yelling. He swore at the dead cattle inside, then looked wildly around for the rest of his animals. “Dammit!” he yelled again as he spotted dark heaps scattered around the farmyard. “Goddammit to fucking hell!” He fired his gun into the air, the shot a punctuation mark to his frustration and anger. He kicked at a dead cow and turned away—
Almost right in front of him, the enormous wolf rose from a clump of tall grass like a lion on a savannah. Its tongue lolled from wide grinning jaws.
Frightened, the man backpedaled and stumbled. He struggled with his gun, trying to bring it to bear as the wolf walked stiff-legged around him. He fired off a shot but missed. The wolf leapt and snapped at his leg, the empty ring of its jaws sending a shiver down Zoey's spine. The gun fell to the ground as the man crab-walked backward, then turned and ran for his life.
No, thought Zoey.
No, no, no!
She raced from her hiding place, heedless that she was naked, and tried to grab the gun. She couldn't. Like a ghost, she wasn't truly there, was only a helpless observer. She swore, and ran toward the man's screams.
He was silenced before she got there.
Zoey watched with angry tears streaming down her face, her fists clenching and unclenching. The wolf shook its lifeless victim by the throat like a rag doll. She could plainly see the terror and surprise still stamped on the man's face, the same expression she had seen on those people killed by the drive-by shooting, and that she had witnessed in the eyes of the child who lay dead on the sidewalk. . . .
Horrified, she cursed the gift that didn't enable her to intervene, only to see too late. Then she saw something else—the wolf was greedily drinking from its victim's torn throat. As it drank, the creature was making a strange chuckling sound as if it were laughing. Zoey's stomach heaved and her lungs were suddenly not getting any air, yet she was unable to look away. And as she stared, the wolf lifted its dripping muzzle and looked directly at her, its eyes glowing with unholy light.
You.
The word was in her head. In. Her. Head. The wolf had put it there. The murderous creature before her had put a word in her
mind
.
You're going to Change for me, sweetheart. I own you and I'll have you.
The words weren't loud and yet they shook her. She felt violated, dirty. She tore at her hair as if she could pull the words out of her head. And then she saw the wolf lope toward her, its bloodied jaws gaping wide as it leapt. . . .
Chapter Eighteen
“I
've got you! I've got you, baby. Wake up!”
Connor was frantic. Zoey was screaming, yanking at her hair and clawing at her head, and he couldn't seem to reach her. Finally he pinned her to the rug, grasping her wrists before she hurt herself. “Zoey!” he shouted, adding a psychic punch to his words. At last he saw her jerk her eyes open. They were uncomprehending at first, wide and terrified. And then she saw him, truly saw him.
“He's dead,” she blurted. “He's dead, and I couldn't do anything. Nothing!” She shattered into sobs that shook her whole body.
“Shhh. Who's dead, honey?” Connor gathered her into his lap and cradled her, rocking back and forth as if soothing a child. He kissed the top of her head, nuzzled her hair.
“The-that man. A farmer.” Tears ran down her face and trickled onto Connor's chest. It was several moments before she could speak again.“I don't know him. He has cows and the wolf killed them, killed all of them. And then, and then—oh God, he was so scared.” The racking sobs overtook her again.
“The same wolf that attacked you.” He made it a statement, knowing the answer.
Zoey nodded through the tears, the sobs starting to catch in her throat.
Jesus, she's frozen.
She was cold all over and shaking. Connor picked her up and carried her to the bed, climbed in with her and pulled the blankets over them both. He held her tightly as his thoughts whirled.
It hadn't been Zoey's screams that woke him. It was the sudden burst of energy from her that intruded on his mind, radiating from her like a star gone nova. He'd been fully awake and staring at her, trying to comprehend what was happening, when the screaming began.
It was no nightmare that brought her to such a state, he was certain of that. This could only be the result of the extrasensory talent that she'd inherited, and he could easily see why she didn't consider it a gift.
Poor little falcon.
Taking the edge of the sheet, he used it to gently dab at her face. She was almost cried out, the sobs transmuting to shuddering hiccups. He kissed her head tenderly, tucked her closer to his heart and wished he could protect her from the terrible truth they would surely hear within hours.
Bernie had finally killed someone.
 
Connor awoke first. Daylight came early this far north. It was probably only five
A.M.
but the busy sounds of nature poured in the open window, a cacophony of birdsong and insect buzz, as if it were midday. As if a man wasn't lying dead in a field somewhere, his life cut short by a rogue Changeling.
I've got to tell the Pack.
Connor looked down at the woman in his arms. Zoey was sleeping peacefully at last. He eased away from her and tucked the comforter close around her. Then went downstairs to make a phone call he wished he didn't have to.
Jessie's voice was quiet and soft, as it was when she was truly angry. “It's one thing for Bernie to dare to invade my territory, flip the finger at the Pack in a situation where we were surrounded by humans and couldn't Change. There's no Pack law against being an asshole. But this . . . this is my mistake. He'd already crossed the line when he attacked Zoey and I foolishly thought that binding his wolf would be enough. Harming a human is forbidden, and there's only one penalty for killing one. Bernie's life is forfeit.”
Connor knew it. Changeling law was strict. Bernie would not be allowed to live. He had no love for the vicious old drunk, but still he felt responsible. “I should have stopped him.”
“It's not your fault for not being omniscient. You don't control what your gift shows you—or what it doesn't.”
Hadn't he just tried to say the same thing to Zoey the night before? Small wonder she hadn't found it comforting. Didn't do a damn thing for him either.
“Will you call the Pack?” he asked, knowing that Bernie's sentence would be carried out quickly.
“Yes, but not you.”
“What?”
“Your job is to keep your mate close. Bernie still wants her and until he's dead, she's in danger.”
“I—”
“I'm sure you want a piece of him, Connor, but even if you didn't have Zoey to protect, I would forbid you to be involved. This is too personal for you.”
Shit.
Jessie was right. He wanted to kill Bernie with his bare hands for
very
personal reasons. And because of that, he needed to step back. But it would be damn hard.
He returned to the bedroom to find Zoey out on the balcony, clad in only a bath towel. Her freckles were pure gold in the morning sun and his body shot to attention at once. Her russet hair was freshly washed, and the moisture in it made it curl and wave even more than usual. He couldn't help wondering what it would feel like to have that long lovely hair gliss slowly over his cock. . . . She turned and smiled at him, and concern replaced arousal. Her smile was much too brave, he thought. Her eyes were deeply shadowed, more from stress and tears than lack of sleep.
“I borrowed your shower,” she said.
“Sorry I missed it.” He slid an arm around her and kissed her thoroughly, tenderly. “Need some breakfast?”
“No. Not ready for that. The dream . . .” She let it hang, knowing he understood.
“You still need to eat something. How about some coffee and one little slice of toast? Just to make
me
feel better,” Connor coaxed.
“Maybe in a while.” She slid her arms around him and they stood for a while, drinking in the fresh morning air. “You're so warm. Don't you ever get cold?”
“High metabolism.” He was just contemplating removing that towel from her and warming her up too, when she stopped him with a question.
“So, yesterday you said you had something important to tell me?”
Every sense Connor possessed shot to high alert. The moment of truth had arrived, the conversation that every Changeling dreaded. He had to tell her, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to make it easier. And considering the horrifying vision she'd had in the night, it was the worst possible time to be having this talk. Normally he'd put it off, tell her tomorrow or next week or next month. But the pale half moon hung in the bright morning sky, like a ghostly hourglass ticking away time. Eighteen days. Christ, only
seventeen
now.
Connor grasped her hand and took a deep breath—or tried to, since it didn't feel like he was getting much air. “It
is
important. And it's difficult to explain, so I might have to take a couple of runs at it. You have a psychic gift, so you know there's more to the world than most people are aware of.”
“Some gift,” she said bitterly. “Why didn't it tell me what was going to happen in advance? Maybe I could have warned the guy. Maybe you and I could have gone there and shot that damn wolf before it got a chance to do anything. Instead, that poor man is dead and it's my fault.”
“It sure as hell
isn't
your fault!”
“See it from my side, will you? This is exactly what's been happening to me more and more over the past few years. I'm not a journalist, I just record the mess after it's happened.”
He couldn't think of a thing to say to that, so he simply guided her indoors before she caught a chill. They sat on the bed together, his arm around her shoulders.
“I guess your gift is different from mine,” she said at last.
“Not that much. It didn't tell me what was going to happen to that farmer either, and it bothers me too. I don't get to control what my precognition tells me and that sucks. It's not like my other gifts.”
“Your other—oh, you mean communicating with animals. So you have control of that?”
“I do, most of the time,” he nodded. “But don't forget that crazy bull still caught me with my pants down. So you see, it doesn't always work the way I'd like it to. Neither do my
other gifts
.” He emphasized the last part deliberately, waited for her to pick it up.
“You can do more?”
“A whole lot more.”
“Like what? Hey!” Zoey eyed him suspiciously. “You can't read my mind, can you?”
“No, nothing like that. Your thoughts are your own.” He conjured up a ghost of a smile as she looked relieved. He loved her expressive face. He loved her. And he had to get this out before he couldn't. “Zoey, not only can I communicate with animals, I can become one.”
“Excuse me?”
“I'm a Changeling. Part of me is man and part of me is wolf.”
She mouthed the word
wolf
and then laughed. “You had me going there for a moment. Yeah, I'm really going to believe you're a big bad—”
“Werewolf.”
She smiled up at him and then the smile disappeared as she realized he wasn't kidding. “Connor, quit it.”
“Zoey, there are legends of men who shapeshift in every culture in the world. Every single one. The Navaho have the Skinwalker, the French have the Loup-Garou, the Chinese have the—”
“I don't give a damn what the Chinese have. Stop it, will you? This isn't funny in the least. I just had the worst dream of my life, saw a wolf
kill
someone for God's sake, so this is a damn poor joke.”
“Honey, I wish I
was
kidding.” He meant it. At this moment in time he would have traded every one of his extraordinary abilities to be an ordinary human male. To not have to see the mix of hurt and confusion on Zoey's face. “But I'm not.”
She scrambled off the mattress and began yanking on her clothes.
“Zoey, you have to hear this.”
“I don't have to hear your lame-ass excuses. I thought we had something good between us, something real, but if I was wrong, have the guts to say so. Don't dick around with my head with bizarre stories—”
He was in front of her in a heartbeat, startling her into backing up. He followed, deliberately stalking her until she was against the wall, holding her shirt in front of her like a shield and glaring fiercely. “I love you, Zoey. I want more than a relationship with you, I want a life with you. I want children with you, I want all of it, everything. With. You.”
“Then why the hell are you—”
“
Because
I love you, I have to be up front with you and tell you everything about me. Including something you don't want to hear. I'm not fully human. And you're not either.”
She blinked at him. “How
dare
you! How dare you say something like that? Last night you called my ability a
gift
and this morning I'm back to being a goddamn
freak
?”
“Hell, no!” He had to find a way to stop putting both feet in his mouth.“I wasn't talking about your psychic ability. I meant you're going to Change.”
“Change how?”
“It wasn't a wolf that attacked you. It was another Changeling.”
“A werewolf? You're saying I was attacked by a
werewolf
? You're as crazy as that asshole reporter, Helfren.”
“I agree he's an asshole and a dangerous one, but he does have a few facts straight.”
She stared at him wordlessly for a long time. Moisture welled up in her amber eyes but he knew she was willing the tears not to fall. His own heart bled on their behalf.
“I'm going home now,” she said at last, sliding out from between him and the wall and walking over to the center of the room to finish dressing.
“You love me.” He felt like the ground was being pulled from under him.
“It sure felt like it. But that was when I thought I knew you. I don't know the guy who's standing in front of me spouting all this B-movie crap.”
“You
do
know me. Nothing's changed.”
She shook her head. “This is probably my own fault. This is what I get for making excuses for you.”
“What the hell do you mean by that?”
“Come on, Connor, you go along for a while being Mr. Wonderful and just as I think you're Mr. Right, you do something bizarre. Like that time we got all hot and heavy in my apartment and you took off like the couch was on fire. And at the party? We all but had sex standing up and
bang
, you disappeared without a word.” She jammed her feet into her shoes. “And now? I just had the best night of my life and now you're telling me the wildest, most ridiculous story I've ever heard. I don't know what the hell is the matter is with you, but you've got
serious
issues with intimacy, mister!”
He stepped in front of the door just before she reached it.

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