Witch Wolf (23 page)

I blinked.

"You don't believe us?" she asked.

I tried to shrug, and knew it looked weird. Was I dreaming?

"Was that a shrug?" she asked.

I nodded.

Rosalin walked out into the open area of the bedroom and the next thing I knew, I was airborne.

My arms flailed, and for the first time I felt the air catch beneath my wings. I moved them, up and down, rapidly.

I flew.

Holy Morrigan. I was flying.

Spotting the back of the armchair I landed, albeit, a little awkwardly. It took a few hops to catch my balance.

Lenorre came to me, trailing her fingers down my feathered back. It felt weird. I felt weird, like something light and unreal. "Now do you believe us?"

"No," I clicked.

"How does she change back?" Rosalin asked.

Lenorre shrugged. "I've only heard tales about someone receiving a gift from the Goddess," she said. "I have never actually witnessed such. That is something that Kassandra is going to have to figure out."

I closed my eyes. Forever stuck in the form of a bird did not sound like a well-lived life. Maybe it was similar to shifting. I took deep meditative breaths, and instead of a wolf being pushed back in its cage, I imagined a nice little nest on top of a tree. Visualization is everything, sometimes, and surely birds liked nests? I tried to familiarize myself with the energy. Fire. The wolf was more earthy, like rainwater and soil. The bird, or whatever it was, had heat to it. I pushed that energy into the metaphysical nest I imagined.

It wasn't working. Damn it. I wanted my arms and legs back! At least when I was a wolf I felt at home, comfortable in my own skin. This shape was alien to me. I thought about my human body and how much I wanted it back.

A shadowy mist rose around me. Lenorre stepped away from me.

"Fuck," I said and touched my lips. My voice came out in human words and it made me want to cry.

A second later and the back of the chair tipped with me on it. I hit the wall and slid down in a clumsy heap to the floor.

Rosalin laughed.

"Well, looks like she figured it out."

"You think?" I said, standing on wobbly legs, bracing my hands on the back of the chair.

"It is good to see you are back to your normal self," Lenorre said, sounding surprisingly calm.

"And naked," Rosalin added.

I looked down. Sure enough, she was right. I put myself behind the chair, using it as cover.

Lenorre went to the closet by the smashed painting. She took something out and then offered me a dark red robe. I took it, gladly.

"Tell me this isn't really happening," I said. "Tell me that one of you just slipped me a roofie."

"A roofie?" Lenorre asked.

Rosalin said, "It's a date rape drug."

"I cannot," Lenorre said thoughtfully, "unless you wish that I lie to you."

"What the hell just happened?" I asked no one in particular.

"I came running when Lenorre called." Rosalin put her hands on her hips. "You were surrounded by all of this shadowy stuff. Definitely magic."

"What were you thinking when you were about to shift?" Lenorre asked, her expression still thoughtful.

I ran my fingers through my hair, pushing the tangled tresses out of my face. "I don't know. I didn't want to shift. I prayed to the Morrigan for control," I said, then thought about it and finally admitted, "Well, begged, but the wolf is never like that. She's pushy, but not that pushy."

Rosalin said, "You went into a type of metaphysical heat when Lenorre bit you."

I gave her a disbelieving look.

Lenorre said, "Rosalin speaks truth."

"For werewolves," Rosalin continued, "biting the back of the neck is a sign of courtship. When Lenorre bit you, your wolf saw it as a proposal and offered herself." She frowned when she said that last bit.

"Why are you frowning?" I asked.

She actually sighed. "Because the fact that your wolf offered herself to Lenorre means that she thinks she's a fitting mate."

I looked at Lenorre. "But you're not a werewolf."

"No," Rosalin said, frowning, "but she's powerful enough to dominate your wolf."

"What does that mean?" I asked, eyeing her warily.

She shrugged. "A dominant female wolf always goes for a stronger mate. At least, she'll go for a mate that matches her in strength. Lenorre proved that she could match you, if not best you, in that area."

"Great," I said.

"So, you called upon your Goddess's aid." Lenorre swiftly changed the subject, for which I was grateful. "An Irish Triple Goddess who happens to preside over ravens and crows?"

I drew in a deep breath. "Yes." I let the breath out, seeing where she was going. Was that even possible? A headache was beginning to start between my eyes.

If it was the Morrigan's energy that had poured through me, if she had given me this
gift
. . .

Why? Why give me the power to shift into not one, but two animals? And why in the moment when I was trying to cage the wolf did I turn into a bird instead of back into my human form?

There was too much to think about. Suddenly all I wanted to do was to sit down, drink a cup of coffee, and pretend I lived a normal life. Any crisis I'd ever met always went better with coffee.

And the fact that animals don't drink coffee made me feel a bit more human sitting with a coffee mug in hand.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," I said. "I'm getting a headache. I still don't feel real and I could really go for some coffee."

Lenorre offered a graceful nod of her head but didn't say anything. She wasn't looking at me, and I found that more disturbing than the way she usually stared at me. Talk about mixed signals.

Rosalin laughed. "I'll go make coffee, then."

I followed Lenorre as she began walking toward the door, busying myself by making sure the robe was tied securely. Lenorre wore a black dressing gown that buttoned up the front. I couldn't remember seeing her change, let alone put clothes on. Sparing a glance at the bed, I spotted the remains of my shorts. The mattress had stuffing sticking out where my claws had torn it. There were black feathers all over the black sheets.

"Sorry about the mess."

Lenorre looked at me with an expression of soft amusement. "Do not trouble yourself with it. It wasn't entirely your fault, after all."

Rosalin fell in quietly behind us as we walked down the hallway.

I sighed, tired to the bone. My voice was more of a whisper this time. "By the way, thank you."

"For what?"

"You didn't take advantage of me," I told her. "Though I probably would've enjoyed it."

The corner of her mouth lifted in a half-smile. "Did I just hear you admit that you would enjoy sleeping with me?"

"We slept together already," I said. "Remember?"

"I remember well what we started," she said in a breathy whisper, "and what we have to finish."

"Finish?" I retorted. "I bunked with you this morning. You got what you wanted."

"Mmm, can you truly say that you have gotten what you wanted?" she asked.

I gave her a look.

"You remember what you said, don't you?" she persisted.

"The wolf said a lot of things."

She whispered against the fall of my hair. "You are the wolf, and she is you. There are desires the wolf will bring to light that you are afraid of."

My stomach did a little flip-flop, and I tried to ignore it.

Had I agreed with the wolf? Had the wolf only spoken my desires out loud?

. . . Maybe.

The dining room was just off the kitchen on the ground floor. The table was large enough to easily seat ten people around it. I sat at one end of the table, huddled over the steaming mug of coffee that Rosalin had poured for me. Even though it had already begun to heal, she had bandaged her wrist with gauze. Lenorre sat next to me, but on the opposite side of the table where the entire kitchen was visible.

Rosalin took a seat, placing the mug of tea she carried on the tabletop in front of her.

"Why does this part of the house feel strange?" I mumbled into my coffee.

"Strange?" Rosalin asked as she took a sip.

I nodded. "I felt it last night. The energy in this area of the house just feels. . . different than the rest."

Rosalin shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"How does it feel different?" Lenorre asked.

I tried to find the words that would describe it. If I closed my eyes and focused on the feeling, it seemed tight, warm, like I had just walked into a room where a circle of protection had been cast.

"Magic," I said. "I can't really describe it. It's like the change in the air before it rains."

Rosalin's honey eyes met mine and it was obvious she wasn't quite following my line of thought.

"When the house was built a protection spell was cast around the grounds and within its walls,"

Lenorre said.

That explained the tight and warm feeling in the air. If what Lenorre was saying was true, then the protection was stronger on this level, because it was on the same level as the grounds around it that had been protected as well.

A cell phone rang. I knew it wasn't mine, because mine was still downstairs in the front pocket of my backpack. Rosalin stood from the table, fishing the phone from the front pocket of her jeans.

She answered the phone as she walked out into the living room. I did my best not to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"The wolves are meeting tonight," said Lenorre. I turned and looked at her.

"Has Rosalin talked to the head honcho?"

"If by head honcho you mean alpha werewolf, then yes. She has spoken with Sheila."

"What's the verdict?" I asked.

"Rosalin is taking you with her. I want you to keep your eyes out for anything unusual."

"Lenorre, there's a problem with that," I said.

"Hmm?" She looked at me quizzically. I met that look and found it difficult not to remember the hunger I'd seen in her eyes earlier. With her hunger riding her she would've drunk my blood, whether I consented to it or not. The thought didn't settle well with me. Although it didn't settle well, I understood the darker aspect of both of our natures.

In the end, I'd lost myself to the deeper cravings just as she had.

The memory of her fangs sinking into the skin at the back of my neck clung to me, as if I could still feel the languor infusing my limbs.

I ignored the goose bumps that broke out over my arms and asked, "How am I supposed to know what unusual is, when I don't even know what the usual is?"

Her shoulders rose and fell. "Follow your intuition."

I took a sip of my coffee. "Oh, that'll never lead me astray," I said sarcastically.

Rosalin returned. "That was Paula," she said, not bothering to take her seat again. "My brother's girlfriend."

"I know," I said, remembering. "Is she available this evening?"

Rosalin took a sip of her tea. "Yeah, we can meet with her at her house before the meeting."

"We?" I questioned.

"You need to know how to get to her house, don't you?"

"I'm sure I could figure it out." I said.

"It saves time," she said and I didn't disagree with her.

"Fine."

Rosalin said, "I don't mean to trouble you. . . I know you're busy working on the case the police hired you on. . . "

I leaned back in my seat, eyeing her thoughtfully. "Rosalin. . . " I was suddenly struck by an idea. "Do you think anyone in the pack would've taken him to get to you? Say, Carver. He's gamma wolf," I added.

Rosalin shrugged. "I don't know him that well," she said. "He's never acted like it, that I know of."

"It's a thought to keep in mind," I told her.

Her eyes shifted uncomfortably to the mug of coffee on the table.

"I'm sure your brother is still alive," I offered.

"I hope so," she said. "He isn't the greatest guy in the world, but he's my brother. You know?"

I placed my hand on top of hers where it rested on the table.

"I'll find your brother," I said, "somehow. First, I'm going home to take a shower. If you want to go with me later, I'll come back and get you."

Lenorre moved from her seat and came around the table to stand in front of me. She reached out her hand. I closed my eyes as her fingers swept a strand of hair out of my face. She tucked that tendril of hair behind my ear, brushing the curve of my earlobe in a gesture that nearly buckled my knees. Or would have, if I had been standing.

"You are upset," she said, but it sounded more like an observation than a question.

She cupped the side of my face in her hand and I let her, feeling her cool tapered fingers stroking my cheek. "Confused is more like it."

"I would not have damaged you beyond repair," she said.

I laughed. She gave me a look that wasn't a look of anger. It was a look that told me she didn't understand what I was laughing about.

"Damage beyond repair?" I tilted my head to the side, looking up into her striking gaze. "Is that your way of saying you wouldn't have drained me dry?"

"I cannot drink you dry."

"What is that supposed to mean, exactly?" The words came out a little heated.

"It means that she can't kill us by drinking our blood," Rosalin said. "We're not human. She can drain a human dry, but our bodies pump out blood faster than she can drink it."

"Are you sure about that?" I asked. "It looked an awful lot like you were about to pass out when she was feeding on you. If that was the case," I noted, "I don't think you would've been on the verge of losing consciousness."

Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "I stand corrected," she said. "I could've passed out.

Blood loss is still blood loss. What I mean is that our bodies would heal that kind of damage."

I gave her a knowing smile and said, "I have hunted and executed a lycanthrope before, Rosalin.

I know." I looked at Lenorre. "What am I supposed to do when you feel the sudden urge to rip my throat out?"

She'd stopped touching my cheek and reached out again to catch the ends of my hair between her thumb and index finger. "For one," she said, "I do not suggest running."