Twelfth Moon (19 page)

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Authors: Lori Villarreal

BOOK: Twelfth Moon
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She brought her wide nose close to his face and sniffed. He turned his head away, showing her his cheek, so she licked it, just in case there was any doubt that she had chosen him. She dropped back down onto all fours and looked around. No one appeared frightened by her transformation, as though they’d known all along what would happen. Their silence was calming, soothing her rage. She lay down on her side at Jonah’s feet, panting, her head up and alert.

The old woman stood only a few feet away, her expression one of approval.

It had been a trick!

They had planned this – had wanted to provoke her into changing. Ba'cho had always acted as if he knew what she was – what her whole family was. This was their way of gaining the final proof they needed.

What the hell?
Jonah’s body was rigid with tension. Cadence had turned into a goddamned panther! If it hadn’t happened right before his eyes, he would never have believed it. It was a beautiful, graceful animal, with inky-black fur, lean and muscular, and those eyes – he recognized the flashing green jewel-tone of her eyes.

And she was protecting him.

Jonah Kincaid didn’t fear much, not even his own death, which he knew would come eventually. But when the beast had come right up to him, rose up and put its paws on his chest and sniffed him, there’d been a moment when he’d thought he might be its next meal. He didn’t know which would have been worse – die by burning – or by eating – until she licked his face with her broad, rough tongue.

Maybe she was just having a taste before digging in.

Now she was lying at his feet like a domesticated pet. Looks were deceiving.

Why hadn’t she told him? She went as far as explaining her predicament with the full moon, but had obviously left out an extremely important detail. He could understand her hesitation. Who would believe such a tale? He certainly wouldn’t have.

Suddenly, it all made sense to him. That was how she’d killed his brother. His stomach twisted with anger and revulsion at what she’d done. Blood had been everywhere in the small flat – the floor, the walls, the bed – there’d even been a few drops on the ceiling. Jonah felt sick. She could have torn him to shreds at any time.

The old woman began speaking, cutting into Jonah’s thoughts. He listened as Ba'cho’s voice mixed with hers as he translated. “Grandmother gives her apologies, Little One,” he said softly.

Little One?

“She had to be sure about you. We need your help. We need your golden sister’s help.”

Grandmother continued, her voice low and gravelly, Ba'cho relating her words in English. “We have been trapped in your world for almost a hundred years.”

A hundred years – who were these people?

Jonah wondered if he’d been hit on the head and was having a bizarre dream.

“Your sister is our only hope,” Ba'cho said, “to lift the curse that has trapped us here.”

Ba'cho approached the panther slowly, cautiously, holding out his hand. Grandmother had stopped speaking. All was quiet. His voice was so low it could barely be heard as he said, “We mean you no harm, Ndołkah. We would not have harmed your mate.”

There it was again –
your mate
.

Jonah watched as Ba'cho came closer – close enough to be mauled. The panther showed its teeth, hissing like some nightmare version of a barnyard cat, but didn’t move. Ba'cho sank to his knees and reached out with his hand until it made contact with the silky-black fur. “I am humble before you. I ask that you please help us. Will you take me to your sister?”

The man had some gumption, Jonah had to admit. The panther could very easily rip Ba'cho’s throat out – like it had done to Robert. It was difficult to remember that the animal was Cadence – a beautiful woman with dark, curly hair, curves in all the right places, and sparkling green eyes. She was the woman he’d buried himself into so deeply, he wasn’t sure he hadn’t left a part of himself there – a piece of his heart.

She was also the woman who had deceived him.

The panther rose to its feet in one graceful move. It looked up at Jonah, those green eyes locking on his for a brief moment, and then shifted to Ba'cho. Then it nodded. Ba'cho gestured toward the crowd and a beautiful, dark-haired, dark-eyed young woman came forward with a bundle in her arms. She knelt by the panther, enfolding it in a large, woven blanket.

Jonah was startled by how quickly the transformation took place. In the blink of an eye, there was Cadence, on the ground, naked, wrapped in the blanket and in the Apache woman’s arms. The woman assisted Cadence to her feet, while several other women gathered around her, urging Cadence to come with them. But before she took a step, Cadence turned to Jonah. He read the sadness and regret in her large eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said raggedly, and then turned back around, allowing the women to guide her away.

His gaze cold and hard, Jonah watched Cadence’s retreating figure. “Get me off this goddamned post!” he snarled.

Fourteen

 

 

BA'CHO STEPPED FORWARD, slipped an impressive knife from his belt, and cut Jonah’s bonds. Jonah brought his hands in front of him, rubbing his wrists.

He didn’t owe Cadence anything.

Yes, she’d brutally murdered his brother, but he was willing to let her go free. After what Robert had done to her, Jonah could do no less. He might have been able to get past what she’d done, accepted her strange reaction to the full moon, but it was too much to expect him to accept what she really was – an animal.

“You are angry at us for what we did to you,” Ba'cho said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Well, yeah,” Jonah snapped. “I’m definitely angry about that.” He’d thought he’d been about to die, the heathen bastards. But what really irritated him was that Cadence had kept the truth from him. She’d deliberately left the most important part out – had selfishly used him to satisfy her own sexual cravings. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. “Why didn’t she tell me?”

“She was afraid.”

Afraid?
The woman survived being brutally raped, suffered a beating by an angry mob, followed by a hanging, and lived through a snake bite – all without losing her spirit, her tenacity, or her sense of humor. How could she have been afraid to tell him the truth? She’d had more than enough chances. Barely able to hold back his snort of disbelief, Jonah said, “What would she have to be afraid of?”

“You.”

Jonah did snort this time. “Me! What would she have to fear from me? She must know by now I wouldn’t hurt her.”

“She feared your reaction to the panther – and it seems she had good reason.” Ba'cho speared Jonah with his dark gaze. “When she joined with you on the night of the full moon, you became her mate.”

“She had no choice.”
“If you were not the man she wished to bind herself to, she would have fought it harder.”
Jonah recalled how viciously she’d resisted Ned Furley.


I tried to fight. I thought of you, instead.”


Am I just a convenient male, caught in your web?”


No!”


Would Ned Furley have done just as well?”


No! I-I don’t know. I didn’t want him.”


Are we – are all men interchangeable to you?”


I’ve never been tested before. I told you I always isolated myself during this time. But I do know I don’t want anyone else, especially not Ned Furley. I want only you!”


Only me. What makes you so sure?”

Cadence had pounded her fist into her chest. “I feel it.”

She’d even suggested he could leave her, walk away, reassuring him she would ease with time. She’d given him a choice and fool that he was, he’d chosen to stay.

“What does that mean, exactly – to bind herself to me?” Jonah asked.

“It means that she will want no other,” Ba'cho said. “She is connected to you in a way you do not yet understand.” He grinned as though in response to some private joke – a joke at Jonah’s expense. “But you will.”

“Your constant riddles make me want to pummel you into the ground,” Jonah growled, feeling surly.

Ba'cho chuckled. “Merely telling you is not as effective as your having to experience it for yourself before you fully understand.”

Jonah shook his head in disgust. He should have expected such an answer from this particular Apache. “I want to see her.”

With a grin, Ba'cho clapped Jonah on the shoulder. “Come with me to my teepee. Have something to eat. When the women are finished with her, they will send word, and then you can go to her.”

Grudgingly, Jonah followed, finding it hard not to like the Apache brave.

They entered his teepee and Ba'cho gestured to one of the colorful, woven rugs near the crackling fire. “Ink-tah. Sit.”

Wisps of smoke drifted upward and out of the opening at the top of the teepee. Before long, a smiling young Apache woman brought a large platter of food, set it down between them, and then left without a word.

“Is she your wife?” Jonah asked.
“No.” There was warmth in Ba'cho’s voice. “She is Jacali, my sister.”
“She’s very beautiful.”
Ba'cho straightened his shoulders with pride. “All our women are beautiful. Da`Da. Let’s eat.”

 

CADENCE ALLOWED THE women to tend her. She was tired, her energy used up while in her transformed state, protecting Jonah. The one who had brought the blanket and covered her to hide her nakedness spoke English as well as Ba'cho. She said her name was Sons-ee-ah-ray, explaining that it meant
Morning Star
. Cadence was taken to a teepee and settled on one of the soft, colorfully woven rugs on the ground.

It was Sons-ee-ah-ray who seemed to be in charge, issuing orders to the other women in their language. They each bustled in and out of the teepee to do her bidding. A basin of water was brought, along with some washing cloths, and sweet-smelling soap. Cadence was only able to put up a mild protest as they began to bathe her like a child. Whatever feelings of modesty she might have had was ignored as they even washed her hair, chattering and laughing as they performed their tasks. They didn’t seem to be afraid of her at all.

When they were finished, Sons-ee-ah-ray held up a soft doeskin dress decorated with colorful beads, and trimmed with fringe. “Everyone is happy you are here, Ndołkah,” she said. “It brings us hope.” She helped Cadence into the dress, which was a perfect fit, the hem falling to below her knees. Then Sons-ee-ah-ray handed her a pair of buttery-soft leggings.

“What does that word you call me mean?” Cadence asked, hoping this time she would get a straight answer. She slipped on the leggings, grateful to have them. It would protect the sensitive skin of her legs while in the saddle.

“It means mountain lion,” Sons-ee-ah-ray replied with a smile. “It is the closest word we have for one like you.” She placed a pair of moccasins on the ground near Cadence’s feet.

Cadence understood now why Ba'cho hadn’t told her what it meant. It would have revealed his knowledge of what she was too soon for what he and his people had intended, as well as given away her secret to Jonah. She was both grateful and angry about his deception.

“Tell me what happened to your people and why you need my sister to help you,” Cadence said.

Sons-ee-ah-ray shooed the other women out of the teepee, and then sat, crossed-legged opposite Cadence. Someone had brought a platter of food, which Sons-ee-ah-ray placed in front of Cadence, urging her to eat while she talked.

“I will tell you a story,” Sons-ee-ah-ray said.

Cadence was mesmerized by Sons-ee-ah-ray’s soft voice as she began the tale.

Long ago the Tche shä were proud and free. They traveled between their world and this one whenever they wished to visit their brethren. The people of this world call it
Bits-áin be-ke-yá
, the Spirit Land. Only the bravest, fiercest, and most handsome of warriors were allowed to cross through the veil into Bits-áin be-ke-yá. Their families would think they were dead, but they were only yah-ik-tee – gone somewhere else.

For many hundreds of years there was peace in their land, until a descendent of the yah-ik-tee decided he wanted to hold all the power in his hand.

His name was Itsá.

Once a good and honorable man, Itsá’s hunger for such power opened his heart to evil, twisting him into something dark and fearsome. One day Itsá stole the object that made it possible to travel between worlds and cast a spell which trapped his cousin’s tribe on the other side.

Itsá’s cousin searched many long years for a way to break the spell, so his people could go home. Then he had a dream. The dream showed him a beautiful golden-haired woman who possessed a special gift that would make it possible to break the spell.

Cadence gasped. “You’re talking about my sister, Jaelene! You think she’s the one from the dream.”
“That is what we believe.”
“And the cousin,” Cadence said, sensing the truth, “is Ba'cho.”
“Yes. Ba'cho Gian-nah-tah is Itsá’s cousin.”

“Oh, my God!” Cadence exclaimed. “That would mean Ba'cho is hundreds of years old.”
How could that be so hard to believe when she and her sisters were shape-shifters?

Sons-ee-ah-ray smiled. “We are all very old, although we do not look it, do we?”

Cadence shook her head slowly, pondering what Sons-ee-ah-ray had just told her. A sudden realization gave her a start as she finally figured out why she’d felt something wasn’t quite right about the village when they’d arrived. “There are no children here.”

A look of immense sadness transformed Sons-ee-ah-ray’s beautiful features. “We are not able to have children as long as we are trapped by the spell.”

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