Shepherd's Moon (6 page)

I leap through the brush. A branch snaps in the distance, but I barely pause in my retreat. The fear is nearly incapacitating, as if I am in a dream, running and running yet unable to escape the tread of tires as my captors pursue me.

A light shines ahead in the darkness and I make my way towards it, panting heavily. It’s too early to stop, but I must rest, if only for a moment. Exhausted, I collapse on the porch — out of the light, the infernal light that gives away my location. The door opens slowly and a voice calls out, ‚Who’s out there?

It’s familiar. Kind. It’s a voice I know, a voice from the place I am running from…

Yet, something is different. My legs can barely hold my weight and I keep my position in the shadows. A woman steps onto the porch, so close I can smell her antiquated perfume and age. I’m too tired to move, not even when she reaches down. Too many days of starving, too few days of movement. I allow her to lift my limp body. A single glance is all I need to take in every wrinkle, scent every ill. An amulet hangs from her neck; a cross in the center of a full moon. It is a shape I recognize…

With a gasping breath, I sharply pulled my hand away and brought myself back to the present.

“Jesus,” I mumbled, staring at the cat.

Meg watched me, fascinated with what was happening. Clearing my throat, I began the process of convincing her that I know what I’m talking about.

“You found him on your back porch several months ago,” I said, describing the images that still ran through my mind. “You were wearing a necklace, an amulet with a full moon.”

She nodded, her mouth slightly agape. People are interesting. While I personally don’t need confirmation on my visions, it seemed to make people feel better if I fed them bits of what they already knew. There is no such thing as trust in the world anymore. She pulled the long chain with the moon amulet from her pink nylon blouse showing me the truth in my words.

I nodded once. “I’m going to need some time alone with him.”

“I’ll make us some tea then. You just take all the time you need and give me a shout when you’re finished.” She stood stiffly, as if every movement were a focused effort. “Oh, his name is—”

“Daniel,” I interrupted, ignoring her shocked expression. “Yes, I know.”

Reaching towards the animal, I stroked his long fur. And then—sudden pain, white hot and piercing forced me to double over as I held my abdomen and recoiled from the cramps. Through blurred vision, I watched as Meg stopped at the doorway and bent slightly. At once, the cat relayed the pictures of her agony and I understood what was happening.

It was her pain I felt, not mine and not the cat’s.

Meg straightened with a deep breath and the pain subsided into a more manageable ache as she moved away.

Cancer.

But more fascinating was the sudden realization that the cat sitting before me was an empath.

How interesting…

That explained at least part of the reason why the animal was so upset. He had been a feline long enough to develop some other unusual characteristics—including the ability to pick up on Meg’s disease. As I delved further into his mind, gently stroking his pure white coat, I realized that was only part of the reason he had been acting so strangely. He wasn’t really a cat.

Daniel was a chimera. A bona fide, full-fledged chimera.

I pulled my hand away in disbelief. A chimera is the stuff of legends. Transgenic creatures that are created in labs—and not normal labs—labs that mad scientists run. I had only ever heard rumors about the creatures.

Born as animals, they are injected with human DNA to become human. Or at least, a form of human. They were named for a mythical Greek creature that was composed of parts of multiple animals—usually with the head of a lion, the tail of a snake and the body of a goat—these creatures had only been considered legends. These days, scientists used the term to describe a creature whose DNA has been altered—usually from the body parts or chemical makeup of two or more creatures, like when pigs were used to grow heart valves or manufacture human blood. I had even heard of a scientist who succeeded in growing a human brain in a rat, although I couldn’t see any way that experiment had come to a good end.

Sure, there had always been rumors of shifters who could assume the shapes of animals they don’t favor, but that’s all they’d ever been—rumors. It was something of a myth in our social circle—a goal of many, but none had ever been able to reach it. But, I had never heard of a creature who could assume more than one shape, and I’d never heard of a successful transgenic experiment when a shifter was used.

So what the hell was I dealing with here? And did Richard know this when he sent me here tonight?

If so, I was staring at a whole new set of potential problems.

Questions flooded over me. If this creature could really assume any shape, then why choose a domestic cat? While my experience with shifters was more extensive than most, I had never once seen one assume the shape of a domestic cat. Even if they could do it, and I suppose it was possible if both the animal and human contained the extra chromosome needed, they didn’t. They just don’t do it. Shifters assume the shape of large animals because it fits more closely to their natural weight and structure. If he was really a chimera, Daniel had the ability to assume whatever shape he had in his memory. And he had not shifted back to a human for a while. A long while…

And that made for a very uncomfortable chimera.

I glanced down the hall to ensure Meg had made it to the kitchen, then returned to sit beside the cat, allowing his blue eyes to focus on mine before sending a wave of thought through him.

“I know what you are,” I whispered. The snowy white feline purred softly and images of his time as the woman’s pet rolled over me like an avalanche. He rubbed his head against my hand, filling my mind with pictures of the elder woman vomiting in the bathroom as she lovingly stroked his soft fur, even as the stench of her vomit filled the felines every sense.

“Stay focused. I know she’s sick. Don’t worry—your secret is safe with me.” He was a large cat for a domestic, easily 25 lbs., but I allowed him to climb onto my lap.

When his mind quieted, I buried my face in his soft fur and whispered, “You need to know that I can call you out.”

Actually, I had no idea if I could force a change on him. I had never attempted to communicate with a chimera, let alone try to call one out. But startled, he pulled back, his blue eyes flashing with anger and uncertainty as he relayed in no uncertain terms that he had no intention of becoming human again.

I nodded in understanding. “You have a good thing here. I don’t blame you for not wanting to move back into human form. I have the
ability
to make you shift, not the
intention
to use it.”

Visibly calming, the cat rested his chin on my injured forearm listening to me. “But, you can’t stay in this form forever. Your body will forget. You’ll get sick.” My voice was soft, as though I were dealing with a frightened child — and if my intuition was correct, I probably was. “I’d feel a lot better if you would at least try while I’m here.” I glanced at the door, listening as Meg shuffled around the kitchen, humming softly. “You need to shift back at least once a week. You know about Meg’s cancer. She won’t be around much longer, and when she passes on, you’re going to need to be human to help her.”

The cat rubbed against my hand, and for a moment I could almost see sparks flying from the places we touched. “I know she needs you. You don’t have to leave now, you just have to shift now.” I felt the shields of my mind close tightly shut as I blocked his thoughts from my own. I didn’t need to see any more images of the dying woman. I didn’t want to hear her heavy sigh as she realized her time on earth was nearly over, knowing she would be forced to lie on the big bed awaiting death alone. Without knowing he was doing it, Daniel extended her life just by being near her.

I shook the images from my head. God knows I have enough problems without adding that of an elderly woman and her untrained, shape-shifting cat.

Gently touching either side of his head with my hands, I wordlessly transmitted images that would lead him to my home as his wondrous blue eyes stared up at me.

“When she passes on, you’ll need help. You come and find me when she’s gone.”

In normal cases, I would have forced his shift.

But this wasn’t a normal case.

In this case, the caretaker he loved was dying from cancer. In this case, the creature was an empathic chimera with little to no experience as a human. In fact, I wasn’t completely certain what his native form was. If he phased at the wrong time, he had the potential to expose our secrets, to endanger my pack and all those I protected. And with a soul as young as Daniel’s, there was a very real possibility of that happening. I would need to coerce him to change back, even for a few moments. And the sooner the better.

“Do it now,” I urged, understanding the importance of a shift the longer I was in his head. “It’s been too long since you’ve shifted. You can’t stay in this form forever.”

Images of Meg in the kitchen flashed through my head before I could complete my thought and I glanced at the doorway. “If she does walk in, I’ll handle it.”

How I would handle it, I didn’t have a clue…

His hesitation was palpable, yet I knew the human shape he once had lay buried under the thick fur. I felt his desire to become human once more. He was conflicted, but I wasn’t about to take no for an answer. Not tonight. Either he would do it willingly, or I would have to take him back to the house and force his change, which wouldn’t be comfortable for either of us. Letting him know this, I eventually felt him relent.

Finally, with as much of a shrug as a domestic cat can give, he leapt from my lap to the floor and crouched into a hunting position. If anyone walked in on us now, they would see a cat that appeared ready to pounce on a mouse, not a shifter beginning the first stages of a change. A great shiver ran through his body beginning at the tips of his ears and moved slowly along his spine until it reached his tail. I felt him struggle once, twice, before I finally reached out to remind him how to make the change. As the magic swept over him, the change was nearly automatic and his relief nearly overwhelmed me.

And then a man, one barely out of his teens, suddenly lay naked on the ground, his long legs drawn into a fetal position. It was nothing I hadn’t seen before, but never in one so young. I moved towards him mumbling nonsensical words and stroked his long blonde hair just as I would the stroke the scruff of an animal. His features were perfectly symmetrical, almost feminine in their delicacy. Slowly, his brilliant blue eyes opened and he gazed fixedly upon me as if he were just now seeing me. He shivered and curled tighter on himself.

It would be awhile before he could move. Making the transformation from quadruped to biped doesn’t come easily when you’re out of practice.

I scooted back against the wall, glancing through the drapes of the large picture window as Daniel whimpered softly, his incoherent words filling my consciousness. The sun was setting, but a final ray of light spiraled down making his long hair shine like spun gold. Soft, flaxen hair that had likely never seen a barber fell over his porcelain face and he was hidden from me once again.

Sensing eyes on me, I realized we were no longer alone. Meg stood in the doorway staring at the young, naked man on her floor and a very obvious lack of a cat in the room. Dropping the tray of tea she held, the elderly woman choked out a cry before turning and stumbling from the room.

Shit…

Jumping to my feet, I made my way to the kitchen pulling my phone from my pocket, dialing as I followed her.

She wouldn’t go far. Right now, I was betting she was looking for a weapon or a phone.

Bren’s irritated voice rang over the line and I knew a bad temper when I heard one. Not that it really made any difference; he was always in a foul mood when it came to me.

“Let me guess — you need something.” He answered, the hostility in his voice stretching along the airwaves.

I hate caller ID.

“A cancellation,” I said softly into the receiver. I pressed the earring I wore, routing the call to the wireless earpiece.

“Age?” he asked dryly.

I hesitated briefly and rubbed a hand over my tired eyes as I spoke into the receiver. “Eighty. Give or take a decade.”

Honesty is always the best policy,
I thought.

Bren cursed, which wasn’t anything new. The man spends most of his undead life in a state of rage. I honestly can’t figure out what women see in him and can only assume that since they don’t live with him, they don’t know what he’s really like. I mean, he was definitely attractive, nearly all vampires are—it was part of that natural ability they’re reborn with in order to lure their prey in for an easy kill. But, Bren has a serious attitude problem that needs to be reined in on occasion.

Despite his obvious animosity towards me, I knew he would do anything to preserve my life — but only because of the oath that he had sworn to Joseph years ago in exchange for our family’s protection.

“Haven’t I helped you out enough?”

I took a deep breath before answering. Why we had to go through this every time I called for something was beyond me. I had done plenty for him in the past and don’t feel the least bit of guilt in reminding him of that fact. Frankly, I was getting tired of the implication that I hadn’t done enough. Saving his life should be enough, especially when he wanted to live for eternity. There were plenty of vampires out there who wouldn’t last long in this environment. And there are more than a few hunters out there who would be glad to help him and any other vampire along to a true death.

“Just get over here.
Now!
” I repeated, a little more firmly. I relayed our location, knowing if he were in a foul mood, it wouldn’t be a gentle memory wipe and I wasn’t sure what he would replace her consciousness with. I wanted to ensure that they were pleasant thoughts — the last thing this dying woman needed was more pain.