Bound by Moonlight (16 page)

“Oscar was wondering if you’d mind some company. It’s been so quiet here with Alain gone, we’ve been jumping at shadows.”

“Would you like me to send a car over for you?”

A pause and a nervous laugh. “No, that’s not necessary. What time would be convenient?”

“C’mon over. I’ll have Helen fix us some lunch.” He was smiling for the first time in days when he sauntered into the kitchen to say, “We’re having company.”

T
INA
B
ABINEAU WAS
soft and shy and sweet. She dressed in tender shades of peach and cream, always understated, almost unnoticeable. Invisible. The same way Max had been taught. Coincidence? he wondered as the two of them sat on the back porch steps, watching Giles and Oscar assemble a foam glider.

Lunch had been unexpectedly easy. Everything about Tina was easy and quiet. He found himself relaxed and content in her company, something he hadn’t been in days. He enjoyed listening to Tina talk about her family, about Oscar, about her hopes and plans for them. Normal things so outside his experience, she might as well have been discussing life on another planet. And in the pictures she built, he saw the things he’d always wanted. Family. A place to belong. To be accepted. Things he longed to share with Charlotte.

“Thanks for letting us barge in like this. Oscar’s been after me all week. He was sure you wouldn’t mind.”

Max smiled. “He was right. You’re always welcome.”

“Oscar and I both feel safe with you. Why is that?” she asked softly, as if to herself.

“Because I’m like you.”

He let her mull that over while he leaned back on
his elbows and stretched his long legs out in front of him. He watched Oscar race across the grassy yard after the glider Giles launched for him.

“You must be so proud of him. I’d give anything to have a son like that.”

“I’m afraid for him, Max.” When he glanced at her, Tina rushed on. “I’m afraid someone else might come to take him away from me.”

“I won’t let that happen.” He said that with such certainty, belief bloomed in her gaze. “I’ll protect him.”

“From what? You know, don’t you? You know why they picked him, why they took him.” Her mouth trembled as she turned to her son. “I asked Alain, but he says he doesn’t know. Why is he lying to me?” She clutched his hand, startling him. “I don’t understand. He treats me like I’m something fragile, made of glass. And lately . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“Why are you afraid to be yourself around him? Because he’ll know you’re different? And why do you push pills into Ozzy until he’s dull and complaisant, when you know he’s so much more? Are you afraid your husband doesn’t love you enough to handle the truth?”

She looked away, but he caught the wildness and fright in her expression. “He’d leave us, Max. He’d run if he knew—”

“That there’s something inside you that you’ve struggled to hide from all your life? Feelings and instincts so strong, they wake you up at night and have you prowling, restless and panting, without knowing why? Sensing that you’re more than those around you?
Different, stronger, alien, dangerous.” He paused, then added the kicker. “Not human.”

She turned back to him, her eyes huge and bright.

“You’re not crazy, Tina. And neither is Oscar.”

“Then what are we?”

He smiled, a slow display of white teeth. “You’re something else. Like me.”

T
INA
B
ABINEAU’S EYES
glazed with panic. “What do you mean,
something else
?”

Max turned on the steps to face her, holding her hands firmly. “Don’t be afraid. You’re not alone. We’re special. Blessed.” That’s what his mother had always told him to take the fear from his heart. “We look like them, and we’re taught to blend in with them. But we’re not human, Tina.”

“What are we?” she whispered.

“Are you ready to see?”

She swallowed and gripped his hands as hard as she could, then nodded.

And slowly he let his hands change.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said gently as she stared at the lengthening claws, at the long distorted fingers, at the thick thatch of black hair. When she looked up in alarm and disbelief, he let his eyes glow golden. And he mentally reached out to her with that Glimmer of sensation that their kind shared between them.

With a moan, she shut her eyes; a harsh tremor shook her body. Then she cried, “Oh, thank God. I thought it was madness. I thought I’d passed something terrible on to my son.”

“You’ve given him a gift. A valuable gift we have to protect. We’re called Shifters, Tina.”

“Like . . . shape-shifters?” Her hesitant question earned his smile and nod. “Does Cee Cee know?”

“Yes.”

She blinked, astounded. “And Alain?” Her voice quavered.

“Yes. When he went into the bayou after us, he saw me change to kill those who were after Oscar. He knows that you and Oscar are my kind.”

She slowly processed that. “So that’s why he’s been so distant,” she murmured. Then her gaze flashed up. “And Oscar? What does he know?”

“He knows that I accept him for what he is, and that he can go to Charlotte for anything.”

His hands returned to their usual form. Curious, she lifted them to examine his fingers and palms. Her brow furrowed, perplexed.

“But I don’t turn into . . . into an animal.”

“Our females don’t change.” That wasn’t quite true, but he saw no need to tell her that. “But they can recognize their own, as you did me when we first met.”

“I felt something. I didn’t know what it was.” She dropped his hands to rub her temples, as if trying to force the information to be absorbed. “And those men— if they
were
men—what did they want with Ozzy?”

“I think they want to catch us, to experiment on us and breed us. Then, if they decide we’re a threat, kill us.”

“Who
are
they?”

He’d been asking himself that question all his life.
His mother had hinted at the mysterious, dangerous
they
to fill a young child’s mind with fear, to get him to suppress his talents, to shy from strangers, to withdraw behind a wall of isolation so no one could single him out as different. That awful, faceless, nameless threat had followed him as he grew up, making him cling to the rescue Jimmy Legere offered with a grateful, single-minded relief. Jimmy, who was indeed more exploiter than savior, just as Karen Crawford had claimed.

And he’d done terrible things for Jimmy Legere out of that deep, shivery well of gratitude, believing his mentor was keeping him safe from a far greater danger. And maybe he had been.

“They’re called the Chosen,” Max began.

And while they watched Oscar’s innocent play, Max told her all he’d learned from his father and from Jacques LaRoche.

It was hard to tell how much was folklore and how much was fact. His father had been a notorious liar who slanted the truth to fit his purpose. LaRoche’s recall was spotty at best, his memory damaged and broken. But they both warned of a controlling elite who suppressed their kind into servitude, into a brutish warrior caste used politically and economically as weapons.

The Chosen’s rule was centuries old, using telepathic and empathic powers to subjugate through fear and pain. Shifters were their property, inferiors bred and trained selectively for their genetic traits. The finest lines were valued and protected, the weak and unstable discarded, often killed.

To belong to a house boasting pure bloodlines ensured favor and prestige to that entire family, and that favor was prized, stirring fierce, murderous rivalries and shrewd alliances. The Alpha male of a line was akin to royalty, a breeding-age female a treasured bargaining tool.

Dangerous, guided by instinct, and physically powerful, Shifters adhered to a pack mentality, Max told her. Challenging one another for dominance, the strong and cunning ruled within their clans, but the Chosen yoked them through mental intimidation. Each Shifter child was mentally imprinted at birth to be submissive to their rule. Once Registered, there was no hope of choice or free will. Breeding “in the wild” was forbidden. And mating in their basic forms, which was the only way to transfer their pure genetic strengths, was strictly regulated so that the breed would be improved, and the offspring were trained and tested for abilities.

“Like livestock,” Tina whispered with a chill of horror.

“Yes. Bred and sold as a commodity.”

“To do what?” she asked softly.

“What we do best: kill. As bodyguards. As assassins. As mercenaries.”

“For whom?”

“Whoever can afford us.”

Tina jerked to her feet and began to pace, her arms wrapped tight about her trembling frame. Her gaze locked upon her son. “Is that what you are? Did Jimmy Legere own you?”

“Yes. And no. He knew what I was when he bought me from my father. He knew more about them than I did, and kept me from discovering the truth so he could control me. But he also hid me, kept me safe from my own kind.”

“Why?”

“Because of who and what I am. I am the product of two pure lines. I’m not imprinted. I’ve never been trained or judged, and my mind is my own. The Chosen can’t find me; they can’t control me. I’m a danger and a threat to them because of that, because of what I represent. But I’m valuable because of who my parents were.” A pause, long enough to warn her. “And so is Oscar.”

She froze, tense in her denial. “How could you know that?”

“Because Oscar and I share the same father.”

He watched it sink in, saw the shock dull her eyes and quiet her breathing. Then she shook it off. “No! That’s not possible. I don’t believe you. Why are you doing this? Why are you making all this up?”

“Who is Oscar’s father? Tell me.”

Just then, the boy came racing up to the porch, shouting, “Did you see? Mama, Max, were you watching?”

With a tremulous smile, Tina turned to her son. “I’m sorry, honey. I missed it. Max and I were talking. What did you do?”

His features fell. “I got the glider to do five loops and come back to me. Giles said that’s something nobody has ever, ever done before. Do you think that’s true?”

Max put a hand on his shoulder. “If Giles said so, I’m sure it is. Oz?”

The eager face tipped up toward his. “Yeah, Max?”

“Your mama needs a hug.”

A quick smile. “Sure.” But when he stepped toward her Max caught him, holding him away. Oscar glanced up in confusion.

“From here.”

He went stiff with understanding. “Max, are you sure?”

“Yes. Go ahead.”

Anxiously, the boy looked to his mother, seeing no encouragement in her expression, but no resistance, either. He took a shaky breath and, after a moment, sent a tentative Glimmer her way.

Tina gasped. When she didn’t move, Oscar burrowed back into Max for reassurance. Max gave him a slight squeeze.

“It’s okay, Oz. Why don’t you try that trick with the glider again. We’ll be watching this time.”

And as Tina looked between the two of them, seeing similarities she wanted to deny, the boy went down the stairs, the bounce gone from his steps. Leaving Max to curse himself for stripping away that spontaneous innocence.

Shaken, Tina confronted Max. “Why did they come after him if they could have you?”

“Because I was just a rumor, and he was a certainty.”

“But now that they know about you, he’s not in danger anymore. Is he?”

“I’m sorry, Tina.”

Her eyes grew wild and angry. “If you’re . . . you’re his brother, like you say you are, you’d give yourself up to save him. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes. If I could.”

Then do it.
He could see the demand in her expression, hear it in her panicked breathing.

“Tina, we bond only once, and for the life of our mate. Charlotte is my mate. She can’t have children, so my line stops with me. I can’t offer them what Oscar does.”

She was silent for a moment. When she spoke, her voice sounded thoughtful. “Not necessarily. If Cee Cee were to die, you could take another mate and have children of your own.”

Max recoiled, and his tone cracked with a hard finality. “But I wouldn’t. Not ever.”

“Are you guys watching?”

Oscar’s shout wedged between their tension, making them both step back.

“We’re watching, honey. Go ahead,” Tina said.

As the glider looped and soared, Max wondered if he’d made a mistake. Had he just done the unforgivable in trusting Tina Babineau with the truth?

“He’s all I have, Max,” she said quietly.

“And I’ll protect him and you. I swear.”

“Like you did before?”

He flinched. “Now that you and your husband know what’s at stake, we can work together.”

She said nothing.

“I want you and Ozzy to stay here with me until they get back. The two of you shouldn’t be alone. And this summer, I want to set up lessons for him so he’ll
have the skills he’ll need as he grows older. Meanwhile, I’ll make arrangements to see that he’s protected around the clock. They won’t get to him again, I promise you. My life on it.”

Her gaze rose to his, holding him accountable as she said, “We’ll need to pick up some things.”

W
ITH
O
SCAR TUCKED
into bed and Tina putting away her clothes in the adjoining room, Max roamed the second-floor gallery.

Having Oscar in the house stirred unimaginable joy in him. His family. His kin. He’d felt loyalty and attachment to Jimmy, but nothing like this. Even his feelings for Charlotte, though probably more powerful and intense, weren’t as deeply imbedded as those for this boy—his
brother.
Instinct urged him to protect Oscar with every shred of his being; there was nothing he wouldn’t sacrifice.

He drew up, suddenly thinking of Tina’s words. Then he began to pace with greater agitation.

Why hadn’t Charlotte called him? Was she afraid he’d come charging into the middle of her investigation like some lovesick fool and endanger her efforts? He wasn’t that stupid, that out of control.

He wasn’t.