Changeling Moon

by Dani Harper

  No, thought Zoey. No, no, no! She raced from her hiding place, heedless that she was naked, and tried to grab the gun. She couldn’t. Like a ghost, she wasn’t truly there, was only a helpless observer. She swore, and ran toward the man’s screams.

  He was silenced before she got there.

  Zoey watched with angry tears streaming down her face, her fists clenching and unclenching. The wolf shook its lifeless victim by the throat like a rag doll. She could plainly see the terror and surprise still stamped on the man’s face, the same expression she had seen on those people killed by the drive-by shooting, and that she had witnessed in the eyes of the child who lay dead on the sidewalk. . . .

  Horrified, she cursed the gift that didn’t enable her to intervene, only to see too late. Then she saw something else—the wolf was greedily drinking from its victim’s torn throat. As it drank, the creature was making a strange chuckling sound as if it were laughing. Zoey’s stomach heaved and her lungs were suddenly not getting any air, yet she was unable to look away. And as she stared, the wolf lifted its dripping muzzle and looked directly at her, its eyes glowing with unholy light.

  You.

  The word was in her head. In. Her. Head. The wolf had put it there. The murderous creature before her had put a word in her mind.

  You’re going to Change for me, sweetheart. I own you and I’ll have you.

  The words weren’t loud and yet they shook her. She felt violated, dirty. She tore at her hair as if she could pull the words out of her head. And then she saw the wolf lope toward her, its bloodied jaws gaping wide as it leapt. . . .

  Chapter Eighteen

  “I’ve got you! I’ve got you, baby. Wake up!”

  Connor was frantic. Zoey was screaming, yanking at her hair and clawing at her head, and he couldn’t seem to reach her. Finally he pinned her to the rug, grasping her wrists before she hurt herself. “Zoey!” he shouted, adding a psychic punch to his words. At last he saw her jerk her eyes open. They were uncomprehending at first, wide and terrified. And then she saw him, truly saw him.

  “He’s dead,” she blurted. “He’s dead, and I couldn’t do anything. Nothing!” She shattered into sobs that shook her whole body.

  “Shhh. Who’s dead, honey?” Connor gathered her into his lap and cradled her, rocking back and forth as if soothing a child. He kissed the top of her head, nuzzled her hair.

  “The-that man. A farmer.” Tears ran down her face and trickled onto Connor’s chest. It was several moments before she could speak again.“I don’t know him. He has cows and the wolf killed them, killed all of them. And then, and then—oh God, he was so scared.” The racking sobs overtook her again.

  “The same wolf that attacked you.” He made it a statement, knowing the answer.

  Zoey nodded through the tears, the sobs starting to catch in her throat.

  Jesus, she’s frozen. She was cold all over and shaking. Connor picked her up and carried her to the bed, climbed in with her and pulled the blankets over them both. He held her tightly as his thoughts whirled.

  It hadn’t been Zoey’s screams that woke him. It was the sudden burst of energy from her that intruded on his mind, radiating from her like a star gone nova. He’d been fully awake and staring at her, trying to comprehend what was happening, when the screaming began.

  It was no nightmare that brought her to such a state, he was certain of that. This could only be the result of the extrasensory talent that she’d inherited, and he could easily see why she didn’t consider it a gift. Poor little falcon. Taking the edge of the sheet, he used it to gently dab at her face. She was almost cried out, the sobs transmuting to shuddering hiccups. He kissed her head tenderly, tucked her closer to his heart and wished he could protect her from the terrible truth they would surely hear within hours.

  Bernie had finally killed someone.

  Connor awoke first. Daylight came early this far north. It was probably only five A.M. but the busy sounds of nature poured in the open window, a cacophony of birdsong and insect buzz, as if it were midday. As if a man wasn’t lying dead in a field somewhere, his life cut short by a rogue Changeling.

  I’ve got to tell the Pack. Connor looked down at the woman in his arms. Zoey was sleeping peacefully at last. He eased away from her and tucked the comforter close around her. Then went downstairs to make a phone call he wished he didn’t have to.

  Jessie’s voice was quiet and soft, as it was when she was truly angry. “It’s one thing for Bernie to dare to invade my territory, flip the finger at the Pack in a situation where we were surrounded by humans and couldn’t Change. There’s no Pack law against being an asshole. But this . . . this is my mistake. He’d already crossed the line when he attacked Zoey and I foolishly thought that binding his wolf would be enough. Harming a human is forbidden, and there’s only one penalty for killing one. Bernie’s life is forfeit.”

  Connor knew it. Changeling law was strict. Bernie would not be allowed to live. He had no love for the vicious old drunk, but still he felt responsible. “I should have stopped him.”

  “It’s not your fault for not being omniscient. You don’t control what your gift shows you—or what it doesn’t.”

  Hadn’t he just tried to say the same thing to Zoey the night before? Small wonder she hadn’t found it comforting. Didn’t do a damn thing for him either.

  “Will you call the Pack?” he asked, knowing that Bernie’s sentence would be carried out quickly.

  “Yes, but not you.”

  “What?”

  “Your job is to keep your mate close. Bernie still wants her and until he’s dead, she’s in danger.”

  “I—”

  “I’m sure you want a piece of him, Connor, but even if you didn’t have Zoey to protect, I would forbid you to be involved. This is too personal for you.”

  Shit. Jessie was right. He wanted to kill Bernie with his bare hands for very personal reasons. And because of that, he needed to step back. But it would be damn hard.

  He returned to the bedroom to find Zoey out on the balcony, clad in only a bath towel. Her freckles were pure gold in the morning sun and his body shot to attention at once. Her russet hair was freshly washed, and the moisture in it made it curl and wave even more than usual. He couldn’t help wondering what it would feel like to have that long lovely hair gliss slowly over his cock. . . . She turned and smiled at him, and concern replaced arousal. Her smile was much too brave, he thought. Her eyes were deeply shadowed, more from stress and tears than lack of sleep.

  “I borrowed your shower,” she said.

  “Sorry I missed it.” He slid an arm around her and kissed her thoroughly, tenderly. “Need some breakfast?”

  “No. Not ready for that. The dream . . .” She let it hang, knowing he understood.

  “You still need to eat something. How about some coffee and one little slice of toast? Just to make me feel better,” Connor coaxed.

  “Maybe in a while.” She slid her arms around him and they stood for a while, drinking in the fresh morning air. “You’re so warm. Don’t you ever get cold?”

  “High metabolism.” He was just contemplating removing that towel from her and warming her up too, when she stopped him with a question.

  “So, yesterday you said you had something important to tell me?”

  Every sense Connor possessed shot to high alert. The moment of truth had arrived, the conversation that every Changeling dreaded. He had to tell her, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to make it easier. And considering the horrifying vision she’d had in the night, it was the worst possible time to be having this talk. Normally he’d put it off, tell her tomorrow or next week or next month. But the pale half moon hung in the bright morning sky, like a ghostly hourglass ticking away time. Eighteen days. Christ, only seventeen now.

  Connor grasped her hand and took a deep breath—or tried to, since it didn’t feel like he was getting much air. “It is important. And it’s difficult to explain, so I might have to take a couple of run
s at it. You have a psychic gift, so you know there’s more to the world than most people are aware of.”

  “Some gift,” she said bitterly. “Why didn’t it tell me what was going to happen in advance? Maybe I could have warned the guy. Maybe you and I could have gone there and shot that damn wolf before it got a chance to do anything. Instead, that poor man is dead and it’s my fault.”

  “It sure as hell isn’t your fault!”

  “See it from my side, will you? This is exactly what’s been happening to me more and more over the past few years. I’m not a journalist, I just record the mess after it’s happened.”

  He couldn’t think of a thing to say to that, so he simply guided her indoors before she caught a chill. They sat on the bed together, his arm around her shoulders.

  “I guess your gift is different from mine,” she said at last.

  “Not that much. It didn’t tell me what was going to happen to that farmer either, and it bothers me too. I don’t get to control what my precognition tells me and that sucks. It’s not like my other gifts.”

  “Your other—oh, you mean communicating with animals. So you have control of that?”

  “I do, most of the time,” he nodded. “But don’t forget that crazy bull still caught me with my pants down. So you see, it doesn’t always work the way I’d like it to. Neither do my other gifts.” He emphasized the last part deliberately, waited for her to pick it up.

  “You can do more?”

  “A whole lot more.”

  “Like what? Hey!” Zoey eyed him suspiciously. “You can’t read my mind, can you?”

  “No, nothing like that. Your thoughts are your own.” He conjured up a ghost of a smile as she looked relieved. He loved her expressive face. He loved her. And he had to get this out before he couldn’t. “Zoey, not only can I communicate with animals, I can become one.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m a Changeling. Part of me is man and part of me is wolf.”

  She mouthed the word wolf and then laughed. “You had me going there for a moment. Yeah, I’m really going to believe you’re a big bad—”

  “Werewolf.”

  She smiled up at him and then the smile disappeared as she realized he wasn’t kidding. “Connor, quit it.”

  “Zoey, there are legends of men who shapeshift in every culture in the world. Every single one. The Navaho have the Skinwalker, the French have the Loup-Garou, the Chinese have the—”

  “I don’t give a damn what the Chinese have. Stop it, will you? This isn’t funny in the least. I just had the worst dream of my life, saw a wolf kill someone for God’s sake, so this is a damn poor joke.”

  “Honey, I wish I was kidding.” He meant it. At this moment in time he would have traded every one of his extraordinary abilities to be an ordinary human male. To not have to see the mix of hurt and confusion on Zoey’s face. “But I’m not.”

  She scrambled off the mattress and began yanking on her clothes.

  “Zoey, you have to hear this.”

  “I don’t have to hear your lame-ass excuses. I thought we had something good between us, something real, but if I was wrong, have the guts to say so. Don’t dick around with my head with bizarre stories—”

  He was in front of her in a heartbeat, startling her into backing up. He followed, deliberately stalking her until she was against the wall, holding her shirt in front of her like a shield and glaring fiercely. “I love you, Zoey. I want more than a relationship with you, I want a life with you. I want children with you, I want all of it, everything. With. You.”

  “Then why the hell are you—”

  “Because I love you, I have to be up front with you and tell you everything about me. Including something you don’t want to hear. I’m not fully human. And you’re not either.”

  She blinked at him. “How dare you! How dare you say something like that? Last night you called my ability a gift and this morning I’m back to being a goddamn freak?”

  “Hell, no!” He had to find a way to stop putting both feet in his mouth.“I wasn’t talking about your psychic ability. I meant you’re going to Change.”

  “Change how?”

  “It wasn’t a wolf that attacked you. It was another Changeling.”

  “A werewolf? You’re saying I was attacked by a werewolf? You’re as crazy as that asshole reporter, Helfren.”

  “I agree he’s an asshole and a dangerous one, but he does have a few facts straight.”

  She stared at him wordlessly for a long time. Moisture welled up in her amber eyes but he knew she was willing the tears not to fall. His own heart bled on their behalf.

  “I’m going home now,” she said at last, sliding out from between him and the wall and walking over to the center of the room to finish dressing.

  “You love me.” He felt like the ground was being pulled from under him.

  “It sure felt like it. But that was when I thought I knew you. I don’t know the guy who’s standing in front of me spouting all this B-movie crap.”

  “You do know me. Nothing’s changed.”

  She shook her head. “This is probably my own fault. This is what I get for making excuses for you.”

  “What the hell do you mean by that?”

  “Come on, Connor, you go along for a while being Mr. Wonderful and just as I think you’re Mr. Right, you do something bizarre. Like that time we got all hot and heavy in my apartment and you took off like the couch was on fire. And at the party? We all but had sex standing up and bang, you disappeared without a word.” She jammed her feet into her shoes. “And now? I just had the best night of my life and now you’re telling me the wildest, most ridiculous story I’ve ever heard. I don’t know what the hell is the matter is with you, but you’ve got serious issues with intimacy, mister!”

  He stepped in front of the door just before she reached it.

  “Get out of my way,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “No. Not until you hear me out. I left your apartment in a hurry that morning because my inner wolf was not under control. It was reacting to you, and I couldn’t risk Changing in front of you.”

  She all but rolled her eyes at that and it pissed him off, even though he could hardly blame her. She tried to move past him, but he blocked her and tried a different tack. “You’ve already seen my wolf side, Zoey.”

  “I’m seeing your lunatic side right now!”

  “I didn’t ditch you that night at the party. I was standing over you, protecting you. You’ve been dreaming about a wolf with unusual markings, a silver and black wolf. And you saw that wolf in my face in Jessie’s kitchen. You saw it because you have a gift, and it tells you things that are normally hidden, things that most people don’t see, can’t see. If you’ll just listen to your gift, you’ll know that what I’m saying is true.”

  She hesitated and he knew he’d struck a chord. But damned if he had any idea how to follow it up. He wished he had something brilliant to say but all he had was the truth, a truth that was completely impossible in the human world she lived in.

  “Are you going to stop me from leaving?”

  His heart sank and he stepped back to let her pass, then yanked on his jeans and followed her down the stairs. She beelined out the front door. “Zoey, wait!”

  She paused at the bottom of the porch steps and turned back. The morning sun haloed her hair as she stood by the riot of flowers and his heart stuttered at the sheer glory of her. Why the hell did he have to tell her these things? Why couldn’t they simply be two people in love?

  God help him, he almost gave in. Almost told her what she wanted to hear, almost said, hey, just kidding, everything’s fine . . . and then he saw it. The faint shell of the moon in the bright morning sky.

  Connor walked down the porch steps like a condemned man. Only he wasn’t the one condemned. He stopped in front of Zoey, gently caressed her shoulders with his hands, remembering the glorious freckles that adorned them like flakes of gold. She looked at him with hope in h
er eyes, waiting. Waiting for him to take it all back, to make it all better between them again.

  “Zoey, I love you with everything I’ve got in me and then some. But I will not lie to you, not even to make things easier to hear. I’m a Changeling, but that’s not the problem.”

  “It’s a pretty damn big prob—”

  “You’re going to become one too.”

  She slugged him then. He saw it coming and allowed her to hit him, permitted her fist to connect with his jaw. Part of him was impressed with the power of her human punch, although it barely moved him. The rest of him understood how far she’d been pushed, how much she needed to strike back at the terrible words, words that seemed like horrible lies to human ears. She drew back her fist for another punch and he seized her wrist in a movement too fast for her to follow. Held it. “One is all you get,” he said simply. “Now we talk.”

  “Talk? There’s no use in talking if you’re just going to spout more of this werewolf bullshit.”

  He ignored her and continued. “Bernard Gervais is a Changeling. He bit you and you’re going to become a Changeling in a little over two weeks. I tried to stop it and I couldn’t.” He told her about the silver nitrate, in spite of the fury in her eyes and the disbelief. “Changelings can call out the wolf at any time, become one whenever they want to. But that first time, the first Change, always happens on the first full moon after a bite.”

  Zoey yanked her wrist and he released it. She backed up a couple of steps and folded her arms. “Prove it then. Do it now. Show me you can do this.”

  “Fine.” Frustrated, he called the Change—and was shocked when nothing happened. Nothing at all. There was only a faint whine in the back of his mind as if his inner wolf was complaining. What the hell? Then he remembered. The goddamn gris-gris. He ripped the hemp bracelet from his arm and hurled it across the yard, startling several chickens into brief flight.