The Twisting

by Laurel Wanrow

  “Will you go to the main house?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “It’s awfully noisy when everyone comes in for meals.” She turned and entered the bunkhouse. “My room is quieter.”

  They crossed the storage bay and mounted the circular staircase. “Safe, too,” Daeryn added. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her swallow and nod. “Shearing is supposed to deliver those machines this afternoon. I don’t know if it’ll be him, but…” Damn, he may as well say it. “I’ll sleep better knowing you’re in secure quarters.”

  She nodded. They reached her door, where she stood, shifting from foot to foot, making no move to open it, her hands clenched together. He waited while she studied him, her blue eyes slightly narrowed. “You came earlier,” she whispered. “How did you know I needed help?”

  Well…she’d asked. His heart sank. That fingertip touch might have been his last. “So, like your Knack gives you the talent to see things, ’cambire talents for mammals include a superior sense of smell.”

  “And you said I smell right.”

  He nodded. “You do…plus, when we hugged this morning, your scent kind of imprinted into my Knack. Makes me more aware of you, and since my ’cambire body is roused with hunting the vermin and protecting Wellspring…” He shrugged one shoulder. “It’s transferred to you. The protective urges.”

  “Oh.” She stepped back. “Really. Just, um, like that?”

  His mouth curled into a half smile. “When it’s someone I like, it doesn’t take much. I would come again if you were in need, if that would be all right with you.”

  Immediately, her head dipped. “It would.” She released her breath, and with what seemed like surprise, she blinked at her door.

  Uh oh, she’d realized he still had access to her room. Once he got his breathing right again, he reached across her and opened the door. The midday sun stretched across her floorboards and rug.

  “Your room is brighter than ours.” He gestured upwards. “We have high dormer windows instead.”

  “I suppose nocturnal animals like a darker sleeping situation.”

  Dare he say it? Why not? “A bit of sun to warm your belly fur is nice, too. The light doesn’t matter when you’re tired enough to sleep through most anything.” Once the words were out, he held his breath, but she smiled.

  “And I suppose a…cat…would like a folded blanket to sleep on.”

  Could she mean… “Wool is the best at holding warmth,” he said with as much levity as he could manage.

  Her smile never faltered as she crossed to her wardrobe, collected a red blanket and positioned it in the sunbeam off to the side of her drafting table. He had to wrest his eyes from the thick square pad when she drifted back and leaned against the jamb, one hand pulling the door closed against her back. Still, the smile lit her face, and her voice, when she said, “All ready for any cat who finds his way in.”

  She did mean it. A laugh burst from him. “You’re a strange girl, Ann Marie Masterson, and I’m liking you more each time we talk.” And though her forehead was in the perfect position to kiss, he backed two steps, tossed her a wave and started down the hall.

  “I suppose I am. Sleep well.” She shifted behind him, closing her door, he thought, but he didn’t hear it click shut.

  chapter FIFTEEN

  Annmar washed in her bathing room, taking a clean camisole, knickers and an old day dress in with her to change. Just in case. She combed through her damp hair, trying to decide if the blows to her head had affected her thinking. I have invited a young man into my room. My room…what will people say? She couldn’t claim she was worried about Mistress Gere’s barriers anymore—they had proven quite solid. Wellspring was now her home, whether she had a paying job here or not, so she was safe.

  Her grooming complete, she carefully replaced her comb and stared into the mirror. Face it, you ninny, he’s sweet, you like him and when an absurd way to see him again popped into your head, you opened your mouth like a lovestruck penny dreadful heroine!

  Mercy, she certainly had.

  Annmar cracked the door and looked across the room.

  He’d come.

  A sleek chocolate-coated polecat lay curled on the red blanket on the floor, eyes closed. She couldn’t stop a smile from curling her lips. Oh, Lord. He might be pretending to sleep, but she didn’t care. She would act as if he were, because now that he was here, what was she to do?

  She wavered in the middle of the room. His narrow back faced her bed, his body stretched fully out, his feet limp, the sun glinting off individual hairs. He was beautiful.

  And she would not go over and pet him.

  Annmar tiptoed to her drafting table, retrieved her sketchbook and carried it to her bed. Sitting there, she kept her gaze on Daeryn while her fingers opened the book without thinking, took up the pencil and began—oh.

  No close work for the next few days. Possibly a week. Miriam’s order echoed through Annmar’s head. She nearly dropped the pencil. She clutched it, squeezing her eyes shut. My, she wanted to draw him, but she didn’t dare. The risk to her newly healed eyesight wasn’t worth it.

  But trying another way of looking at him wouldn’t strain her eyes.

  Setting the sketchbook aside, Annmar touched the place below her left collarbone and reached inside herself the same way she’d done to see the growers’ plant forms. This time she went further, reaching after the blue that had welled up while Patrice talked to her. It took a minute of searching…and then it was there, like a cerulean sky warming her fingertips.

  This was it, her Knack, still present even when she wasn’t trying to draw. Annmar smiled. Being able to find it was a wonderful feeling. Perhaps with practice, she could call it up faster. She peeked at Daeryn.

  The polecat flickered into the muscular copper-skinned fellow.

  Her hand flew to her mouth. He lay there, tousled hair itching to be straightened, bare shoulders sculpted like any artist’s perfect depiction, his chest narrowing to a lean waist and tight, well muscled buttocks…

  Her heart sped, and warmth spread across her faster than a kitchen grease fire.

  Oh, Lord.

  Annmar wrenched her gaze back to his thick hair. One rounded ear stuck up where the fur, uh, hair stood in tufts. She fanned her neck, unintentionally letting her gaze wander down the path of his contours again, and found herself admiring his rear, the well-proportioned swells of his gluteus and quadriceps muscles, his calves, right down to his rather large feet.

  No blue luminated him, but still…what a view. Another silly grin spread across her face…for a moment. What had Patrice said? The bud of your talent is only opening.

  Her Knack was becoming easier to use, but really, with Wellspring’s issues, she should save her efforts for those who might need them. Neither should she be looking at Daeryn. It only put her thoughts to…other things. Tiptoeing onto the floorboards, Annmar swept back her covers, slid the pencil and sketchbook under her pillow and sank onto her bed.

  Why Daeryn wasn’t blue piqued her curiosity. The various Basin people didn’t seem to have blue lines upon them, but blue lines appeared when she wanted to heal them. Blue lights coursed the machines. The operational machines. If that spider applicator Rivley had repaired was anything to go by, they lost their blue when their engines didn’t work. The tea warmer had been the smoothest functioning one. If only it hadn’t been given over for Luci-viewers, she could study it again.

  Rivley’s claim they were different types of engines didn’t sit well with her, but she couldn’t bring up the Harvester’s lack of blue thread-like lights to him again until she figured out their purpose herself. Annmar shuffled against her pillow and chewed her lip. Things were worsening at Wellspring. Every person had to do what he or she could to help.

  How could she explain this in a helpful manner? She glanced at Daeryn. He would know. She’d ask him when he woke up. Until then…

  Annmar snuggled under her covers, keeping her gaze on Daeryn’s fine fur, glisteni
ng in the patch of sunlight.

  * * *

  Leaning against the field side of the bunkhouse, Daeryn stared at the low clouds rolling over the valley, their afternoon rains complete. He traced the shadowed mountainside down to the farm’s rolling hillsides. Perfect rows of green lay to the south. Among the middle-section fields, some were untouched, while in others muddy ground showed between the broken rows of crops. But across the northern section, fields and roadways blended together, plant parts churned into the choppy soil trodden by dozens of booted feet.

  A quarter of Wellspring’s eight hundred acres lay in ruin.

  A week? Ten days? That’s all it had taken these gobblers to flip their lives upside down and possibly ruin the futures of so many farmers. The vermin and their damage were spreading south and east. If they didn’t get a handle on stopping them soon, agrarian life as Basin folks knew it would be gone. The thought made Daeryn mad, scared and sick, all rolled into one lump in his belly.

  Feelings he had to ignore. If he wasn’t in a better mood—or at least a neutral mood—when Leander brought the new ’cambires in, then they might decide Wellspring’s harvest couldn’t be saved. He had to put on the front that their time here was worth the effort.

  And apparently the new help weren’t the only ones who’d need persuading. A shift of growers emerged from dinner at the farmhouse and trudged to the greenhouses. Their slumped shoulders and averted gazes didn’t bode well for tonight’s hunt. Where would he find time to talk to them, too?

  He’d just have to. First this group, then another set coming with the wagons and the day’s harvest. He closed his eyes to the long night ahead and pictured Annmar instead. He’d slept deeply in her room today, better than during the days she’d been ill. However, this time when he woke, he left immediately, sneaking only one furtive glance. In her brass bed, the covers pulled to her chin and her brown hair loose over her pillow, she’d been smiling, a sight that had been absent during the days of illness he’d spent snuggled next to her.

  His breath sucked in at the memory…and others.

  Yes, he’d wanted to linger, but that hadn’t been included in the invitation. He was determined to take his cues from her. The proper manners seemed to be relaxing, but he had no idea how far they would loosen. And at this point, perhaps she didn’t either.

  She’d invited him as a polecat, that’s all. Rivley might be right. The human girl reared in the city didn’t think like they did. She might only want a cat around.

  He chewed on that idea for a minute, then spit half of it out. She’d definitely invited him, in human form. And after he told her he’d scent-marked her. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to curtail his ’cambire side. Riv had hinted that he thought some of his ’cambire activities bothered Mary Clare. Or was it something else? Could he act more human? It was a side of him. One he only loosely paid attention to. But he could…with some effort.

  Annmar was worth the effort.

  Daeryn could start changing those habits…if he could figure out what they were.

  The crunch of approaching footsteps sounded. He blinked his eyes open and waved to Leander, the young fellow who’d run errands last night and who was the new object of Mary Clare’s affections. Hell, looking at the slight youth, Daeryn couldn’t tell what the girl saw in him, compared to Riv. He was good-looking, but had no self-confidence. Wouldn’t even look most people in the eye. Leander worked hard, though, Daeryn had to give him that. But so did Riv, and Mary Clare, for that matter. Hmm…Daeryn shook off the thoughts. Wasn’t his business. His involvement ran only to working with Leander, and any other help Wellspring could rally.

  Leander led three others along the end of the drive, two men and a girl, and up to Daeryn. “The help from town I promised Miz Gere I’d accompany here.” Leander introduced the two men, who were also forest cats, and turned to the girl last. The slender brunette waved a hand, her fingers fanning out much like a wingtip, so it was no surprise when Molly said her Knack ’cambire was a long-eared owl.

  Daeryn reviewed their procedures of sticking to their assigned field and stunner operator—recruited growers—to reduce accidents and cautioned them against touching the fungus. “Really, there isn’t much more to it than that. Use the same technique you normally would to kill vermin. Only after they’re knocked out. Their incisors are sharp and overlarge for their size. We don’t want any accidental bites, but if it happens, tell your grower and go to the sickroom inside the farmhouse.”

  Behind them, Jac approached as he talked. A moment later, Mr. Hortens came up from the greenhouses with a handful of growers carrying stunners. Mr. Hortens glanced at him, then Jac and, leaving the growers, gestured the wolf girl out of hearing. What was going on? Daeryn wanted to know, but he also had to make sure these new folks were comfortable.

  “Any questions?” he asked.

  There weren’t, but one of the forest cats spoke up. “Just letting you know,” he said, “we might be here only a night or two. We’re from the southern edge of the Farmlands, and if I hear word these vermin have moved closer to there, we’ll need to return. But we figured”—he waved to the other new man—“we’d help you out and check the situation at the same time.”

  Daeryn dipped his head. “I won’t lie. We’re short on predators. It’s disappointing you might not be able to stay longer, but I understand and appreciate the time you can give us. All of you.” Soon, it’d be this way all across the Basin, not just the Farmlands shire. He called over the growers, made introductions and matched them up, still dwelling on where they might possibly find more help. Rockbridge might spare some predators, if someone had the time to travel that far.

  The pairs started moving off, except for Leander and his partner. The forest cat told the woman something, to which she nodded and left with the others. What was up with that? Mr. Hortens was still speaking with Jac, but if there was a problem, Daeryn better find out now. He caught Leander’s eye, and the fellow stepped close, head hanging.

  “Sorry. Should have told you,” he mumbled to the ground. “Miz Gere and the livery arranged for me to make the delivery of Eradicator machines to Wellspring, ’cause I’m a regular here now. I got the lay of your fields so I can meet my stunner partner later.”

  Ah. Sounded reasonable, and now he had a chance to ask something that’d been poking at him. “How will those cats know when the pests expand into their area?”

  The fellow lifted his chin southward. “Cat trails, the way we pass messages from cat to cat. It’s how they heard you needed a hand. My pa can’t run with his bad knee, but he relayed your call for help.”

  Daeryn held his breath. “Anywhere in the Basin?” Leander nodded, and Daeryn grinned. “Could a message reach Rockbridge?”

  “If there’s a cat there.”

  By the time Daeryn told Leander his message and which old packmate—a mountain cat—to send it to, Jac and Mr. Hortens had finished. The tall man veered north toward the greenhouses, now ablaze with light. They’d be lit throughout the night to serve as a retreat and stunner refilling station.

  Daeryn headed toward Jac. The wolf girl glanced off and, if he wasn’t mistaken, gritted her teeth.

  Aw, hell, what now?

  She stopped, not quite meeting his gaze, and exploded into words. “I tried to be as polite as I could, but what am I supposed to say when he tells me those fools walked? He should never have let—”

  “Hold on.” Surely he had misheard. “Walked?”

  Jac drew a breath and then nodded. “Every grower not vested in the Collective has quit.”

  Shit. “So that’s this season’s new plantas? What, about six of them?”

  “Nine.”

  Daeryn raked a hand through his hair. This was bad. Really bad. “Leaving us—”

  “Every shift cut a third tonight, and the rest are howling like a den of whelps. Hortens is up to his ruff, or whatever he’s got, in complaints. Bottom line is those sun lovers can’t handle working part days and part nights to support
us. They claim it’s double duty, having their crops to attend to in the daytime and then getting up nights to run around. Run, they said. I lost it at that. We’re the people doing the running at night. My stunner operator has to pivot at most.”

  Shoulders slumped, Jac kicked at a clump of grass. “Hortens listened to my plea that they toughen up, but barely. His senior-most growers are insisting on a night off, and he’s giving it to them because, get this, he is more worried about running our Market Day stand tomorrow than the hunt tonight.” She took a breath. “I stopped short of telling him the hell with it. Figured you’d end our co-lead. But honestly, I can’t think of anything to fix this.” She rubbed her fingers over her temples.

  Jac was admitting she didn’t know what to do. Jac? Daeryn clamped his lips.

  He took a moment to sort his words so as not to upset her further. “I’ve heard some of the grumbles. Who can blame the plantas? Stumbling around in the dark with all the killing isn’t their element. They’re taking more bites than we are. Also not something they deal with every day.”

  “Or maybe ever?” Jac rolled her eyes. “I suppose. But when you’re desperate—and Wellspring is definitely desperate—you’ve got to have all hands. We had everyone divided over our regular sections, and until those asses left, every field had just enough people to keep us from getting totally overrun, even if we can’t get ahead of the damned vermin. With fewer workers, we’ll backslide, dammit. Why can’t they just stick to the plan?”

  She didn’t understand, because most of Jac’s world still revolved around Jac. “You’ve done a great job organizing that,” he said, “but maybe try to look at it from their point of view.”

  Jac huffed out a breath. “I could. But…shit, Dae, I’m worn through—like everyone else—and being sympathetic is not high on my list of priorities right now. Don’t they realize if we don’t stop these pests, there won’t be a Wellspring this time next month?”