Changeling Moon (29 page)

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Authors: Dani Harper

BOOK: Changeling Moon
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The tree abruptly rolled a few inches and swung farther out into the current. Zoey was forced to scramble for balance, raking the thin smooth bark into ribbons with her claws. When things settled again, she fixed her eyes forward on the roots, half in the air and half in the unstable ground and prayed they would hold just a little longer.
A dozen feet. Ten. Time slowed to a brutal crawl. Eight. Mountain lions were strong but Connor's tall and muscular build translated to pure dead weight. The water dragged at his body, and every branch along the tree's trunk impeded Zoey's progress. Six feet. Five. Her shoulders felt broken, her jaws ached, and her claws threatened to pull out of her toes. Three feet. Two. Home free. Gratefully she surrendered her precious burden to the outstretched hands of her friends. Culley, Devlin, Bill, and Holt carefully supported Connor's battered and bleeding body between them and carried him to safety. Zoey leapt down from the tree and staggered up the bank after them, to collapse in a heap in the mud.
Culley couldn't stay in the house a minute longer. He'd been up all night but was forced to concede that he couldn't do a thing for his injured brother except worry. Time to see what he could do outside. Horizon Dead Livestock Removal had finished their grim task and gone, but they dealt only with large animals. The smaller victims of Bernie's bloodlust, such as the dozens of dogs and cats, still needed to be buried.
It was heartbreaking work. He chose a spot between the oldest barn and the crabapple orchard, and opened up a long deep trench with a backhoe. That was the easy part. The hard part was gathering up all the creatures that Connor had adopted over the years, and laying them carefully, one by one, in the earth. He'd managed only a handful before Bill found him and joined in the sad task.
The sun was long gone before they finished. They walked back through the silent farmyard, by the empty corrals and paddocks. Culley sighed. “It still doesn't feel clean. Maybe we could call Eddie Melnick to bring his water truck out in the morning, see if the blood can be hosed off the walls of the buildings. Or maybe someone's got a pressure washer.”
Bill nodded. “It'll help. But the only thing that'll heal this place is new life.”
Connor would no doubt fill the place with rescued pets from his practice again, thought Culley as they walked up the steps to the porch. If he recovered.
When. When he recovered.
He sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets. He was filthy, tired, and hungry, but he wished more than anything for something else to do, something to occupy his mind and keep it from worrying about Connor.
As if in answer, his attention was caught by the enormous flower bed below, the broken irises and crushed daylilies, and the odd pattern they made, as if something had been dragged through them. “Bill,” he said. “Isn't that blood on those flowers there?”
“There's blood over half this farm today, mate.”
“Yeah, but—” Culley didn't finish. Instead he leapt down into the midst of the garden. And discovered a great deal of blood among the green leaves. Normally he could scent it, even in human form, but today his senses had been overwhelmed. He'd been smelling blood and death all day. Probably one of the poor dogs had been killed in this spot. Yet something about the scene niggled at his instincts.
Ah, hell.
He called the Change, instantly becoming a great black wolf.
And just as instantly he discerned that the blood was not canine. It was human and he knew the scent.
Helfren.
In a split second, Culley had nosed out the scene and realized that the trail of blood led under the porch. He pressed a paw against the latticework panel. It moved.
“Are you finding anything, mate?” called Bill from the porch.
Culley didn't answer, but shouldered the loose panel out of the way and slipped beneath the decking and into the darkness. The scent led in a wobbly line through the loose clay soil, and Changeling sight revealed what looked like a pile of rags far back against the foundation of the house. He approached on silent feet, nosed at the body to determine if there was life. He could have spared himself the trouble. Tad Helfren's eyes flew open and he began screaming.
Shit!
He couldn't calm the man as a wolf, so Culley immediately resumed his human form without thinking. He cursed as he cracked his head against the decking above him. “Helfren, it's okay. Settle down, man. Help is here.”
“Get away from me! I know what you are!”
Something whizzed through the air and Culley instinctively caught it before it hit him. He couldn't see much in his human form, but the feel of it in his palm was enough. A cell phone. He slipped it into his pocket to check out later. “How bad are you hurt?”
There was no reply. Culley felt for a pulse, was relieved to find one. It was faint and thready but Helfren was still alive. He must have passed out.
“What have we got, mate?” Bill had taken off the lattice panel and was leaning in.
“Big trouble, and he's going to die if we don't hurry.”
 
Faint sunlight flickered over Connor's face, teasing at his awareness until he opened his eyes a little and blinked. Slowly his bedroom came into focus. Try as he might, he couldn't imagine how he had come to be there. An icy thread of unease ran through him.
Where was Zoey?
Connor tried to find his voice to call her, but managed only a faint croak. He gave up and searched for Zoey with his mind. He felt unspeakable relief when he found her immediately. She was close, very close. Beside him, in fact, sound asleep. Connor moved his left hand a little, was surprised that his entire chest erupted with pain from the small effort. Was even more surprised when his fingers encountered not warm, soft skin but thick, plush fur.
Fur?
“Zoey,” he whispered haltingly. “Zoey, wake up.” Connor had to fight to find the strength just to turn his head. He managed it just as an enormous mountain lion yawned hugely in his face. Shock was far too tame a word for what went through him as tremendous fangs gleamed scant inches away. The jolt was complete when the powerful jaws closed and he could see the creature's eyes. Brilliant shining amber like a falcon's eyes. His little falcon.
“Honey, what big teeth you have!” He mustered a weak grin even as he struggled to keep unconsciousness from claiming him again.
“The better to save your ass with.” Culley's voice came from somewhere to his right, but Connor didn't take his eyes from the puma.
“Is she okay? What the hell happened?”
“Everything happened, it seems, just before we got there. The whole Pack turned out to trail you when we realized you'd gone off on your own. The valley was a frickin' mess, slides everywhere—”
“Zoey. Tell me about Zoey.”
“Right, well she hasn't quite got the hang of mindspeech yet, so only Jessie's been able to communicate with her. All I know is that we thought you'd been caught in one of the landslides and so the Pack was searching the slopes and the riverbanks. Suddenly I spot the biggest mountain lion I've ever seen in my life, and it's got you by the scruff of your shirt, carrying you like a damn antelope. And then Jessie says it's not a lion, it's
Zoey
. She must have plucked you out of the water, but I don't know how. That damn tree you were on was rolling like a ship on high seas. She got you to shore just before the river took it away.”
“Why the hell is she a lion? How the hell did she Change in the first place? Who helped her?”
Culley shook his head. “Nobody, bro. She didn't have anybody with her, she did it all on her own. Gives me the willies to think of her Changing without any help. She could have—well, you know what might have happened. But I guess she was trying to save you, and she's one determined woman.”
Connor felt the blood in his veins turn to ice water. “Jesus.”
“It probably helped that she had some natural ability to help her, some instincts to guide her.”
“What instincts could she possibly have to draw on?” Connor didn't think Zoey's psychic abilities would be much help in such a situation. “She wasn't born a Changeling.”
“Well, that's where the lion thing comes in, bro. Jessie says she's
theriona
, that she can probably become anything she wants.”
Theriona . . .
“Christ, Bernie was right.”
“Bernie? He had this figured out?”
“Not until he first ran into her, but yes. It's why he targeted her.”
“Makes a weird kind of sense—I mean, he was practically prehistoric himself. No one's run across one of the
theriona
for centuries. But Jessie's been on the phone for three days with your folks over in Scotland, and they've been researching Zoey's family tree. Seems like some of the right names are on it, going all the way back to Celtic times in Wales and beyond. Apparently Tallyson is just an Anglicized version of Taliesin.”
Taliesin.
Holy-o-shit.
Connor's mind boggled as the pieces fell into place. The Welsh bard had been a known shapeshifter, and rumored to be a descendant of Merlin himself.
“Jessie figures Zoey had a recessive gene and the Changeling bite just activated it, the way it activates dormant genes in humans.”
Suddenly Connor remembered the night he'd found Zoey and the strange, brief vision he'd had, the silvery images of animals, many animals, that had burst through his mind and vanished. He'd dismissed the experience, thinking that his
farsight
had been affected by his fatigue. He should have known better. . . .
“You know what this means, don't you?” asked Culley.
That I'm a complete idiot.
“Not a clue, but I'm sure you're going to tell me.”
“It means that the silver wouldn't have helped, bro. If Helfren hadn't messed with your silver nitrate and you'd given it to Zoey just like you planned, it still wouldn't have helped. Jessie says nothing would have changed the outcome once the
theriona
gene had been activated.”
Well, hell.
Connor took a long breath. Then another. He hadn't realized how heavy that particular bundle of guilt had been. He'd been so certain he'd failed Zoey. He'd still failed her in some ways—he hadn't been there when she Changed, and he'd promised her she wouldn't be alone. He sighed. At least he'd dealt with Bernie. At least he'd done that much for her. She was free of her sire and out of danger. Mostly. “Why is she still a lion? Is she stuck?”
“Jessie told her not to Change back yet.”
Alarm seized his heart. “She's not hurt, is she?”
“No. Not hurt at all, just tired out.” Culley squirmed a little. Actually squirmed. Connor narrowed his eyes at his brother until he capitulated. “Okay, okay. Don't tell Jessie I told you. Zoey was pretty drained when we brought her here. She's okay but she needs to rest up for a while and recharge her batteries before she resumes her human form. She Changed twice out there, trying to get to you.”
“Twice!” Connor struggled to rise up on his elbows, but instantly a massive golden shape pinned his shoulders to the bed with paws the size of his face. The mountain lion pressed its broad nose to his and he could see Zoey's amber eyes glaring at him.
“Is she
growling
at me?” Connor was incredulous.
“She's definitely not purring, bro. You're under very strict orders not to move.”
The big cat withdrew and curled up beside Connor, all in one fluid motion that barely sent a vibration through the bed. The fierce, bright eyes remained open, watching him. Warning him.
“You're worried about Zoey, but she just needs rest. You're the one that was injured. You were in pretty rough shape when we dragged your butt in here, you know.” Culley ticked things off on his fingers. “Punctured lung, five broken ribs, punctured liver, dislocated shoulder. Not to mention you were bleeding bad from a variety of war wounds. Lowen stayed here for the first three days, nursing you around the clock. Changelings heal fast, but he was plenty worried. We all were.”

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