The Midwife's Moon

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The Midwife's Moon Page 12

by Leona J. Bushman


  The snow started coming down harder as they turned down the rugged jeep trail that led to the cabin. Alex had to slow down, causing Nolan’s stress to rise.

  “I’m sorry, my love. I can feel your pain, but not see what’s happening. Are you okay?”

  “No, and I’m worried. Trouble with Lance and Lisa on the same night there’s a report of Boris on the restricted lands?”

  “Maybe the report is false.”

  “Maybe.” He didn’t think so.

  “But?”

  “But there’s still a traitor in our midst. They would have known tonight was the pack trial, would have had time to prepare for a response—killed or exiled. And tonight would be their best bet at getting to Joseph.”

  “To murder him, or help him?” Alex sounded concerned now too. She picked up on nuances faster than he.

  “I don’t know.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lisa’s paws felt the cold underneath, but her thick wolf skin provided better protection than her human skin could. Some places had snow, others were patchy or just cold where the trees kept the snow from reading.

  Joseph had also turned into werewolf. She’d found his shirt hanging from a tree and growled to herself. He’d leaped from the tree, and she’d lost precious minutes picking up his trail again. After she’d found tracks and verified they were his, she’d broke into a jog, but hopelessness ate away at her consciousness.

  He was bigger, stronger, and knew the area better than she did. Some instinctive response caused her to slow to a walk. As she neared a clearing, she could see how brightly the snow lit up without the trees to provide shadows. Perhaps that was why she saw it—the dark depression in the midst of all that white. Sniffing the air and moving cautiously, she endeavored to stay out of the line of sight while still keeping an eye out on the dark mass and the surrounding area.

  Slinking low, she cautiously moved forward. Her wolf senses were confused by the many werewolf tracks and scents she’d come upon. With the new snow, there shouldn’t have been so many scents. Plus, there wasn’t any reason for so many people to be on the mountain this time of year. There were a fair amount of werewolves—and coyotes and wolves—who lived this way, even in the winter, but it still felt off.

  Something about the smells was wrong. Like they’d been planted. Her brain must have overloaded. How in the hell could someone plant smells? A buzzing started in her head, and what looked like the sunrise began to glow over the snow. Only it was far too early for sunrise. She overcame the sluggishness that threatened to make her collapse and carefully drug her paws through the cold powder. One step, two.

  Not for the first time, she wished she knew more about the reservation. As a formality, she’d been adopted into the tribe. However, she’d not explored it, as was part of her new rights. The fear of coming across someone who would recognize she’d been on the wrong side of the Wahpawhat/Lupin line and demand she be punished was too great. No, she wasn’t going to lie to herself anymore. She’d not come because she hadn’t wanted to accept her new heritage—werewolf.

  Despite becoming an Elite Guard, the midwife, she’d never fully accepted what she was. No more. It was time to use all of her available senses to fight for justice. Whatever Ryan and Joseph had been up to, it wasn’t the good of the pack. Her determination seemed to have cleared up some of the fog invading her brain, and she looked around.

  Snow, trees, brush—and silence.

  Evil lurks here.

  She froze. Who said that? It couldn’t be... Her heart beat erratically. There were stories that a true healer, who was also a protector of the pack—a shiiplá tawtanúk who communed with the wind, the sea, the trees themselves—could become one with nature and hear its voice calling.

  Fear gripped her, paralyzing her. But she was aswan. How could she be one of the legendary werewolves when she wasn’t a true one? As far as she knew, there hadn’t been one in a century.

  Evil awaits. Leave.

  She realized her fear wasn’t from the bodiless voice she heard, but from the dark spot in the snow. Concentrating to calm herself, she began stepping away from the area. Two steps and her legs faltered. She’d hit something—but what? There was nothing around her, no trees, rocks, or brush. Just—air.

  The heart rate she’d barely got under control skyrocketed again. Her vision blurred, and dark shapes rose up out of the ground. No. Not out of the ground. Her mind may say that’s what she saw, but she knew it wasn’t. Fiercely, she nipped at her legs and yelped. The pain helped clear the fog that had again enveloped her mind. She needed to stay alive. She also needed to find out what this was, and what did it have to do with Joseph.

  Her mind started to fog over, and her eyelids drooped as the adrenalin from the bite wore off.

  Lance! Her mind screeched his name through her consciousness. If she passed out, Lance wouldn’t know about the extra danger. He also wouldn’t know how much she’d come to care about him. Part of her, the part that knew someone had saved her, already knew him. Any doubts were lost as she heard the wind talking. A power, which according to legend only those who were mated were reputed to get, had come to her. Not those many years ago when he’d saved her, but tonight. Tonight. When they’d acknowledged each other’s weaknesses and promised to help. The commitment.

  Her thoughts became clearer as her emotions—fear, happiness, amazement, hope—washed through her. Again she tried to walk backward, but the fog pushed harder into her mind.

  Howling, she despaired of seeing Lance again. While she stayed hunkered down in the snow, the cold seeped through her fur and invaded her bones. A dangerous lethargy leached into her, even as she fought. She knew what caused it. Despite her extra protections as werewolf, her body couldn’t stand the cold and wet forever. If she could move, or huddle in protective cover somewhere, her natural heat in this form would protect her. But paralyzed, stuck to the ground, her body began to shut down.

  Her nose hurt, and she kept trying to move it, use it, as well as wiggle her paws. However, wiggling just the paws turned out easier said than done. Again, she tried to move backward, but instead, a sharp pain pierced her skull. Dark laughter erupted all around her.

  She shook her head. The dark spot had split and grown; now there were people standing there. Ryan stood there, along with Steven and Jason who held guns on Moriah. Guns? They’d been up against guns? Lance? Where was he? Why wasn’t he with Moriah?

  Desperately she looked around, hoping to see him following them. Instead, she only saw Joseph standing next to a tall, beautiful, Native American woman, werewolf, whose eyes glittered at her when she caught Lisa staring. Then three others came into view as well: another Native female werewolf, a white male werewolf, and...she sniffed. A human. Well, that explained the guns.

  “Guns? Really? You’re not tough enough to face us women without human weapons?” She sneered with as much strength as she could muster.

  Ryan and Jason’s faces clouded over in anger. With a snarl twisting his lips, Ryan started putting his weapon away and took a step toward her, but he stopped when another man spoke up.

  “It’s a wonder you all survived this long. Ryan, stand back. Can’t you see you’re being goaded by her? Even in her animal form and under my compulsion, she is stronger minded than you. Roxy? Keep your pets under control, or I will.”

  Roxy? Roxy was back? Fear engulfed her and waves of chills ran down her spine, colder than the winter snow as she realized things had gone from worse—unknown danger—to horrifying.

  The glitter in the man’s eyes told her she hadn’t done a good job keeping the fear to herself. Paralyzed, dangerously cold, and her mind wavering, things were bad enough. Add Roxy in and Lisa had to wonder if things could get any worse.

  ***

  Roxy stared at the werewolf they’d trapped. She still didn’t completely understand how Justin had managed it but couldn’t deny the evidence. The she-wolf lay in abeyance unable to leave. It didn’t particularly please her that Just
in could do such a thing. Had he used this unknown power on her?

  Anger, her constant companion in recent times, fueled her life, her being, and this situation was no different. If she ever found out Justin did mind control on her, she’d never forgive him. And she’d find creative ways to torture him before killing him. Cheered at the last thought, she turned her mind back to the current situation.

  “Who are you and where are you from? You are not Indian,” she said to the werewolf.

  “I am Yakama. They adopted me years ago when I was turned by him,” she sputtered as she indicated Joseph.

  “Made you?” Roxy’s horror and disgust caused shivers to run through her.

  “I am aswan,” the werewolf said with unwarranted pride. How could she be proud to be such an abomination? Roxy stepped forward to kill it. Nothing filled her with more loathing than an aswan.

  As she bore down on the atrocity, she yanked out her silver knife from its sheath. She knelt down, and ignoring the bites as the wolf tried to get to her, wrenched the wolf’s head back. “You are nothing. And as long as Justin has you trapped, you cannot move well enough to hurt me,” she sneered contemptuously. “You should never have been allowed to live.”

  She drew her arm back to plunge the knife in full force. Before she could complete her swing, another hand stopped her.

  “It is not time for her to die. She needs to be alive. Without a hostage, Nolan and those who are helping him will kill you all without much trouble when he arrives. We need her.”

  She wanted to snap back at him. Who did he think he was hissing at her like that, like some sort of cat?

  “She is on my territory,” Roxy growled back. “I will do as I please.”

  “You lost this to Nolan. It is his.”

  She stood up and stalked to him until they were face to face. “It. Is. Mine. My land. Make no mistake about it.” That red haze she’d felt off and on over the past couple weeks started to blur her vision. When it didn’t clear all the way, she stepped to the side...and saw Joseph.

  “How could you make such an abomination? And without permission?” Her hand flew up and streaked across his neck in a move so swift he dropped with his eyes still open in surprise. Bright red color soaked into the snow like a macabre abstract. She stared at the widening circle of blood, ignoring the few gasps around her. One day, she’d do the same to Justin.

  Glancing back to see his reaction, she caught his eye. His face had a half smile as if she’d handed him a canoe load of gold and precious stones. He nodded to her then. She narrowed her eyes and turned back to watch Joseph take his last breath. He should never have made an aswan, much less do it without telling her. A coward and a traitor, he deserved no better than the gasping death she’d given him.

  After Joseph took his last raspy gasp for air, she turned to the others. “That is what happens to those who defy me or disobey orders.”

  The Wahpawhat guard Moriah continued to stare at her defiantly. She’d always hated the woman. A human police officer? Her and those like Moriah brought down the whole of the were community. Then again, it was Nolan’s fault. He set the rules and standard for the pack. Better that she hadn’t mated with him. What if they had children that were weak like him? No matter. She’d teach Moriah the right way. Not that the woman would live long enough to practice it.

  Justin spoke quietly to the others, and they began forming a tight circle, Moriah out in front at one angle, Heather another, and lastly, the wolf.

  “Come,” Justin said to the wolf. “Stand here and don’t move unless I tell you to.”

  Roxy watched with interest as the wolf defied Justin’s orders. The defiance cost her. Justin whipped out and backhanded the wolf’s maw when it howled in pain.

  “You will do so quietly, or the pain you feel now will be as a pleasant memory. Do I have your attention?”

  Whimpers of pain left the wolf, and it inched forward. Interestingly, it appeared to Roxy as if the she-wolf still fought to disobey. With some disgust, she looked at Joseph and the others, like Jason. None of them had the strength of will of this aswan. She wanted to kick something, anything. Justin had the strength of will. Again, she pondered having him as a permanent mate instead of killing him when his usefulness ended. A howl interrupted her thoughts.

  The werewolf howled again, its cry lonely and sad. Answering cries echoed back in the hills. Many more than Roxy had expected. How many were weres, and how many were wild? And Boris? Where was he? She’d be at a major tactical disadvantage without him, and she might lose some of the subservience he’d recently instilled in Heather. But maybe not, she corrected herself as she caught a look of adoration cross Heather’s face when the ex-healer gazed upon Justin.

  Oh, this was rich. Heather had feelings for one of her captors. Roxy nearly laughed aloud. Life had just become a lot easier for her. Heather would work harder than ever before to do as asked. Nothing pushed a woman as hard to do her best than love—unless it was vengeance for a love scorned. Now the grin did pass over her face. Nothing could stop her now.

  She’d have her serums, control all of the weres everywhere, and soon control the Western World. The day weres lived openly, enslaving humans, couldn’t come soon enough for Roxy. And with her ruling them? It promised to be a good year for her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lance heard the howl not far from him and knew it was Lisa—in pain and scared. He howled back, breaking into a run as he did so. From the sound, she had to be close. His wolf’s instincts were screaming at him. Mate is in trouble. And growls emanated from his throat as he ran.

  He let out a quick howl for help, and found many howls responded to him. It humbled him and increased his determination. As if he needed it. Nothing would stop him from protecting his mate.

  The area was one he knew well, and it only confirmed his suspicions that Roxy was involved. It was the clearing where she held the public fights for her amusement, and where she executed and ate her mate. Fury rode him as hard as a jockey would a horse at the Kentucky Derby.

  He burst into the clearing and without missing a step, quickly assessed the situation. Blood—he could smell blood. Then he saw Lisa lying in abeyance before the group that circled them which sent waves of energy and pulsating—what? Something new ran through his veins that he couldn’t identify. Leaving the identification to later, he ran full out and attacked Ryan. The guns were the biggest threat.

  Ryan only had time for a quick cry before Lance had his right arm clamped in his jaw. When he heard the satisfying crunch of bones breaking, he went for the neck. Ryan clawed at him with his human hand, yanking and pulling on Lance’s fur, but Lance had fury and something deeper on his side. It reminded him of the pull of the ancestors his father told him about.

  Others began screaming. Moriah struggled, got free of her captor, and changed to wolf. For a moment, he swore he recognized Roxy’s voice yelling, “Don’t let them escape! There’s a bigger trap.” This had distracted him, and he turned his attention back to Ryan.

  In the moonlight something glittered—a knife. Ryan had managed to pull out a knife with his uninjured arm. Lance jerked to the side, but not before the knife cut him down his right side. A loud howl followed his yelp of pain. He leapt and grabbed hold of Ryan’s neck. With a single-minded purpose, he snapped, and growled, and shook Ryan. Survival and his mate were his only concerns. This man would not be allowed to live.

  In his mind, he could hear drums and voices in ancient calling. The moon radiated around him, lighting things up in an otherworldly silver glow. It surrounded some of the others with a reddish tint. Like his visions. Around him, he could hear shouts, including a stranger yelling, “Stop, you fools!”

  However, the outer voices paled and dimmed as the ancient voices rolled through him and moonlight throbbed within him with every heartbeat. Ryan quit fighting back, and his head lolled off to the side. Lance dropped down on all fours, landing on Ryan’s chest.

  Around him, other wolves came and joi
ned the fight, including Moriah. Dimly, he realized Roxy had left, but he couldn’t focus. He kept hearing the drums of a far off time, of people who predated the Earth and time of the werewolves known history. He needed his mate. He turned and found her slowly standing, moving as if she were hurt.

  The drums beat louder. He howled to the moon again. This time, a long howl of victory and dominance. Only Nolan, from a distance closer than he’d have expected, answered his call. Fur whispered across Lance’s face. Lisa.

  “You’re safe,” he said, the low rumble of his wolf voice startling him. He’d almost forgotten he could speak, that he was human as well as wolf.

  More wolves and a couple of large cats entered the clearing. Lance stood between his mate and the new arrivals.

  “Lance!”

  The voice thundered in his mind, even stronger than the drumbeats.

  “We are your allies. Do not attack us. That includes the cats.”

  Now Lance swore he heard a tinge of laughter in the voice in his head. He looked at the newcomers and nodded. However Nolan did it, Lance couldn’t be sure, but he knew it was the ulfric. He and Lisa rubbed fur again, but he saw she moved better and had coiled her haunches ready to spring.

  Before he could stop her, she’d launched onto one of the wolves attacking Moriah. The wolf went down, but from a distance Lance heard a shot.

  His head automatically tuned to where it had come from. The human—a male—and Roxy were a long distance away. The human had a rifle, but the three of them turned and fled. Shortly after, Lance heard the sound of an SUV.

  Lisa whined, and he turned to see what had happened. The only wolves—and cats—left standing were not enemies. Joseph’s body lay nearby, and Jason’s and Steven’s were close to where Lisa stood. She sat on her haunches and howled, and another large wolf with strong black markings came at full speed. Lance jumped to Lisa and shoved her to the side. He didn’t believe the wolf was attacking, but he wouldn’t take any chances.

  The wolf stopped over Moriah and sniffed. Lance looked down and saw blood coming out. Moriah was bleeding from a small hole—the shot. The other male sat back and howled the most forlorn sound he’d ever heard.

 

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