Moonlight Whispers: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (The Witch and the Wolf Pack Book 8)

by K. R. Alexander

  “Completely demented and fucked up?” Andrew asked.

  “I know ‘of’ there being loads of small and large caster societies and organizations like Broomantle. They’re all over the world. It’s the only way we can keep close ties sometimes. There used to be a group called Ice Glyph in Europe. They would have done something like that. Terrible reputation. Wiped out centuries ago. The wild mages were supposed to be the most powerful casters in the world and, again, they’re long gone. But if any one in particular has that type of reputation and still exists today … I don’t know.”

  “It has to be someone you know of,” Zar said.

  “So that’s narrowing the odds,” Andrew said.

  “Does it?” I asked. “I’ve had that message multiple times now, but that doesn’t mean we can take it to the bank. I’ll talk to Stefan if I can. He has a library to draw on. He’ll know what reavers are. And Gavin if I can. His people are so ancient, have such a collective memory with their Blood Tomes and history, surely he’ll know something. He and Rowan want to solve this as much as we do. I’d be surprised if the druids can help on this. Still … anyone we can safely ask…”

  I rubbed my eyes. “My ‘knowing’ could be a vague connection, could be because there are multiple people involved. We can’t get a lead and say, ‘No thanks, I’ve never heard of that so skip it.’ Which brings me back to something. What about the rest of you? I’ve really wanted to hear about your shamanic journeys if there was anything you thought might be worth sharing. In light of this … we still need all the help we can get. Anything come to mind?”

  I leaned around Andrew to see that yes, Isaac and Jed were at the patio table as well, just listening. Storm had jumped into Isaac’s lap and draped himself across it like a seal, purring in the sun while Isaac rubbed his cheek.

  Jed, as usual, looked stiff and uncomfortable in his skin. He sat awkwardly in the metal chair, staring at the gray cat in some incredulity. Maybe he was surprised Storm wasn’t afraid of the smell of him. Or maybe he was thinking how delicious Storm would taste. Probably both.

  Zar asked if he could get my notebook, where he had made notes about his own journey, and went in. The rest considered.

  “I … don’t think mine was related to anything useful,” Andrew said. “More about the past. Not solving the current situation.”

  “That’s all right,” I said quietly, suspecting that Andrew hadn’t visited the animal spirits of the lower world at all. Perhaps he’d climbed to the upper world, or in some other way seen Sarah. I had many times sat with my mother in the peaceful upper world while journeying with Nana drumming for me, setting me tasks or only meditations.

  I stroked Kage’s neck, careful to avoid the wounds, and touched Jason’s hand. “Anything come to mind?”

  “I didn’t get much, really.” He kept his eyes closed, face toward the sun. “And now I can’t remember much either. There was a rat who came to me and it seemed like … we had a talk. He brought me something. Like a … picture. A blueprint maybe, or just some sort of abstract pattern. I remember thinking he was really canny … like he knew what we needed. But … that was about it.”

  “That may have been a spirit guide for you. Or just a particular helper at the time,” I said.

  Andrew made a little noise in his throat.

  I poked his leg through cargo pants with one finger. “Hey. My spirit animal is a tree frog. The strength of what they represent has nothing to do with the scale of the animal. Rodent or tiger, they’re all powerful guides and teachers who show different things.”

  Zar returned to us and handed me the notebook instead of opening it.

  “You didn’t need to do that.” But I found the spot at the back of the book with his notes so he was not flipping through my personal notes and sketches.

  While he read and frowned, I looked around again.

  Isaac shook his head. “Trying to remember. It was snow when I went to the lower world. I know that. A snowscape. I’d have to think, though. I should have taken some notes as well.”

  “You had paws at the time. Jed?”

  “Mine was about a cat,” Jed said, stony faced, still watching Storm. “With honey glaze.”

  Andrew snorted. Zar actually laughed.

  “Jed, please.” I didn’t feel so amused.

  Jed never took his eyes from the cat on Isaac’s lap. “Is it stupid?”

  “No,” Isaac said patiently, rubbing Storm’s chin with a finger. “He’s quite clever, in fact. He can open doors with leaver handles and always knows when Madison is on her way home.”

  “So…” Zar said, back to frowning at the pages. He spoke softly, as if just for me, although, with their ears and in the quiet garden, I’m sure everyone heard. “I was on a cliff over the sea, like when we were in Cornwall. I’ve dreamt about that. I thought … perhaps it’s about the traveling we’ve been doing, crossing the sea, that we have to rise up to our full potential and cross boundaries to figure this out. There were all sorts of birds there, coastal birds, but inland garden types and birds of prey also. They flew in circles around me, clockwise, around and around. I told them we were seeking murderers—and could they help us?

  “Then … they sort of dissolved into these images like watching strips of film spinning around me. I can’t remember what all was there. I couldn’t even at the time, there was so much, and it was so fast, but I listed what I could remember.” He read down a page. “Stone circle, London on fire, Dieter underground, Abraham’s body, you, Cass, Yorkshire, the manor house, a city that I didn’t know, but now I’m sure it was Portland, a house on a street that I think was your sister’s house, then a lot of green … fells, fields, windswept or forested. I don’t know what else. It was all fast and confusing, mostly places I’d been, some I hadn’t, and I said I don’t understand. I asked how to find them. They said … ‘How you go is up to you.’ So I asked how we would know the way to go, and they said, ‘Turn around.’” He looked up to me. “But the images were progression. Where we’d been. Maybe where we were going. And they circled and circled. It was all forward, right? Then … turn around…”

  “That can mean so many things,” I said. “For example, we need to examine something that is behind us to understand what is happening now. Like this whole history connection. Did you know your journey matched many images I’ve seen through scrying?”

  “The stone circle. What else?”

  “Burning city, Dieter, Abraham, green hills, all of those things come back to me in scries and dreams. I think you had your own sort of scrying with that. We should listen. But … how does that translate? Go back to Cornwall and take another look around? See what we missed?” I sighed. “Those were powerful guides, all those birds. Did they tell you anything else?”

  “Perhaps not in words. It was more a feeling they gave me. About movement, rushing ahead, seeing what was … true. It was like … turn around and … see. At the same time, the vision itself felt so rushed, such a whirlwind—literally with them spinning and the wind in my face—I couldn’t even see clearly on the journey. Much less think how to in the waking world.”

  “The wind is another guide, a powerful symbol.”

  “Meaning?”

  I smiled. “That’s personal. Generally, I would say the wind is motivation, forward movement, inspiration, opening doors, freedom from obstacles. That’s for the dreamer, though, not the dream.”

  “What are the burning cities about? Is it London for you also?”

  “I’ve seen black, burning city skylines many times, right from the start. Not one particular city. Mine is almost like a cutout, pure imagery, not an exact city. I’ve been seeing it as a sort of destruction metaphor. But maybe not. If you saw the same thing that concerns me. If feels more literal somehow. Turn around… I don’t know, Zar. I’ll have to think about that.”

  “It goes,” Jason said. He still had not opened his eyes, just sitting and stroking Kage—who leaned into him, his head slowly having sunk to Jason�
�s thigh. “You already know, and turn around? If you already know of someone, you have to turn around to find them. We know about all of the packs in Britain. It was turning around to come looking for the Mountain Pack at all. If Zar read about reavers when he was a pup and just now is finding they’re real, roaming the North of England in this day and age, he’s turning around to his past for that knowledge, and he already knew about them. If some sort of caster is so powerful they’re creating these things, and Cassia and Zar both have a grounding in caster history and types of organizations, it seems almost certain one already knows the sort of people these are. But they have to turn around to find that bit of their own history and know who.

  “Also, the wind means more than that to wolves. It’s life or death, successful hunt or failure if the wind shifts, predator or pray. The wind shifted on us and Kage and Cassia almost died because of it. If the wind had been still, we’d have smelt those reavers. If it hadn’t been rushing in our faces, Kage would have heard them on the rocks above. But we didn’t. So the wind almost killed us. For the rest, someone is powerful enough to create a reaver, they’re powerful enough to bring death and destruction in their wake: burning cities, rivers of blood.”

  I was just sitting there, looking at the side of his face in the sun, the garden silent besides distant traffic and Storm’s purr, when my phone rang, making me jump.

  Chapter 18

  It was only Rowan. He listened in growing alarm, asking if we were all right, did we need help. Then was shocked by my description of what the creatures were. He hadn’t the faintest idea as far as help, but hoped other druids, who at least knew the faie well, might offer feedback.

  “Shall I ring you back? Or perhaps someone might get in touch directly? I’ll ask Ellasandra for a start.”

  “That would be great, Rowan. Feel free to give out this number. Or a friend of mine’s? A UK number if that’s better?” Looking around the corner of the shed to Isaac, who nodded. I gave him that one, assured Rowan, who still sounded distressed, that we were on the mend and safe with a friend in the Lake District, then hung up to discover I was starving.

  It was the first time I’d felt hungry in days. Maybe a week. My mentioning the fact produced immediate and eager results, ending by Isaac, Andrew, and Zar walking downtown to get us carryout lunch.

  I had to retreat from the sun lest I scorch while Jason lay down with Kage. I wished Jason felt the need to speak up a little more often during such discussions. In the future, I may have to solicit an opinion if he was spending too much time silent—as he usually did.

  Bloody brilliant. Core ask him for ideas out of binds when they’re stuck. Those worms at his dealership challenge him with puzzles and games and brain teasers they can’t figure out. But many people don’t even see that about him because he only sits back and smiles and takes things in.

  A rat—the problem solver, the maze runner—bringing him a plan? A blueprint?

  Even Martha had told me right at the start in Germany to turn to him and Andrew for solving puzzles.

  Now wasn’t the moment. Being around Jason only made me want to hug him and apologize—not push him for anything until Kage was on his feet. Anyway, I liked to think that if Jason had serious insights he would volunteer them without anyone needing to ask.

  As the three of them left, Jed accompanied me inside.

  “Coffee appetizer and British TV,” I told him since he was hovering. “Maybe some notes.” I had the notebook from Zar.

  Jed remained by the counter in the little kitchen while I made the coffee left-handed, first watching Storm stroll confidently past him and head for the front door. This made me suspect Madison was on her way home for lunch.

  Then Jed was watching my arm, the full gruesomeness of which was plainly visible below short sleeves and above the sling.

  “You have some medical training?” I asked as I turned from the coffee maker. “How’s that?”

  Jed looked up from my arm. “All crafters. Anyone working in the shop has at least basic first aid. Woodworking, glass blowing, sharp or burning objects, chemicals.” A little shrug—almost Zar’s shrug. “Common sense. We’ll need to get him back. Joanna is a vet tech. We have others who can look after him as well.”

  “Yes.” I rubbed my eyes. The headache remained along with the rest of my bruises. Though already improving after rest, I was more grateful to have gone a full twenty-four hours now with no nausea and no ginger than for diminished head pain.

  “Isaac says he’ll need a few weeks at least before he can change,” I continued. “Probably a couple more days just here before we—”

  But Jed had made a derisive noise, shaking his head. “Change in a fortnight.”

  “What?”

  “He can put his skin on in a fortnight. Finish his own healing that way.”

  “In two weeks? That doesn’t sound safe. Internal organs—”

  “It’s what they need to heal. He can’t do it right now. He’s too weak, and anyway he might tear something apart rather than knitting together. Give him a fortnight, starting from the surgery, maybe less, and he’ll change.”

  “I don’t know … but Joanna and others will keep an eye on him—be able to make that call.”

  “He’ll change when he’s ready.”

  “You don’t think he’d risk changing before he should? Re-injure himself?”

  “So he could be back working in the pack? With you?”

  I had to turn for my coffee. “I’ll talk to him about it. We can’t let him run risks. He needs to heal. That’s more important than getting back on his feet with us right now. He can’t do us or his pack any good until he is healed so he’s going to have to wait it out.”

  Jed said nothing.

  “Let’s sit down.” I stepped toward him, but paused, resting my mug back on the counter, only a couple feet from him so I had to look up to meet his brown eyes. “Jed? Don’t you think, at some point … it will be time to put this bad blood with you and Jason and Kage behind you?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “It was a long time ago. But Kage is still your cousin. I know you care about him. No matter what all you’ve been through. Before the fallout you had how many years of being his best friend?”

  “That’s part of the problem. Not part of the solution. If Kage and I ran together for a season and he took up with Jason it wouldn’t mean much. Being running mates all our lives and cousins is the reason what he did was so abominable. Just look—”

  “That’s a strong word,” I said quietly.

  “Just look at how he treated you in Yorkshire.” With a growl in his voice, making me remember Jed attacking Kage in fur, who had in turn been going for me. “Must be one of the only wolves in the world with no bloody sense of loyalty.”

  “He was upset. We all made mistakes, him included. I’m not saying he didn’t. But couldn’t you say the same for the whole fallout with you and him and Jason?”

  “No.” He stared back into my eyes, his own fierce, a muscle in his jaw working. “I made mistakes. Kage made mistakes. Jason didn’t make any. He knew exactly what he was doing. He always knows exactly what he’s doing.”

  I looked through the closed French doors to the back garden but couldn’t see them beyond the shed.

  Back to Jed. “Do you want to tell me about it? What happened?”

  “Don’t you know the story?” He appeared suspicious then, like he thought I had some ulterior motive.

  “I do. From Andrew. And from Jason. Not from you. Each story is different. For example, your pack’s story of what happened to your father and your own version.”

  Jed looked quickly away down the hall.

  “Are you ever going to tell Zar?” I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I only wonder if it would be helpful for you emotionally, a weight off, if you could talk to your family about what really happened. But it’s also passed, and it’s your life. Want to sit down?”

  He stepped back by the doors, giving no answer b
ut waiting for me to lead the way to the front living room.

  I took up my coffee when a key clicked in the lock. Madison pushed open the front door.

  She talked to her cat while he talked back, purrs and little chirps, yet she sounded so tired I felt bad. I wished I could help, wished this was the end of her day instead of lunch break, wished seven people hadn’t invited themselves over to crash in her tiny office and overall home with medical emergencies in spades.

  “Hey,” I said instead, trying for a smile. “The guys are going to be back in just a minute with Italian. If you have time there’ll be plenty.”

  “Loads, right?” She wore a plain blouse and slacks that flared at the bottom and were only slightly covered in fur. She’d have had on something over the top when she was in the clinic. “What I really need is another coffee.” With a tired smile as she straightened from petting the cat and walked into the kitchen with us. “How’s your friend?”

  “Out in the sun right now. Behind the shed, like you suggested. He looks wonderful—relatively speaking.” I turned back for the coffee maker to clean out, but she could see what I was doing—having my own fresh mug.

  “I’ll get it. How about the arm?” She washed her hands, then came over to the counter in the sun of the window to study the puncture wounds.

  Jed stepped farther back from us, silent and awkward at the doors.

  The arm looked ghastly to me, swollen, black, with red wounds.

  Madison, however, seemed pleased. “Looks all right, that. Took your antibiotics and anti-inflammatories this morning? Keep it clean and nurse it, like the sling and keeping it protected if you’re out, and you’ll do well.”

  “For how long?” I regarded the limb more dubiously. “Any ideas?”

  “Two weeks being careful. But it might be bruised for months. Those puncture wounds will heal over soon, but you won’t be ‘healed’ for a long time, so look after it.” She changed the filter as she spoke.

  “Sorry, I should have—”

  “That’s fine. Did they go to Rosa’s? I’d be glad for a slice, or some of whatever they have, but I’ll need to get back.”