I was locked in.
Her lioness turned to swipe at me. I felt the claws tear across my shoulders, under the skin. With a vicious twist I forced my power to show me the cords that tied Shani’s lioness to her humanity. There were hundreds of them dashing between the two lifelines of lycanthropy. Thin silken threads, three-strand cords the size of rope, and nets woven of both humanity and beast sparking with lycanthropic energy in blues and purples. One arm-thick cable tied both hearts together. I threw my power at that, clutching it and twisting it in my mind. All the cords and strands began to knot and gnarl together.
Shani screamed as I forced her body to change. It wasn’t like the Were-shark, not one part for another, I made her lioness come out all at once.
And I did it as slowly as possible.
Shani jerked, body convulsing as it restructured. Sophia fell to her knees, crawling away. The Were-lioness stumbled back against the clay walls as her legs broke into new joints and her bones stretched. Feline eyes rolled white into her skull and foam spilled out as her jaw re-formed.
My knees became water and I fell down. Ignoring my body, I kept shoving my power into her, still yanking metaphysical cords, still stretching her lycanthropy like taffy. The strain ground my bones together at the joints.
Shani’s neck stretched and her skull flattened as I pulled. Her organs tumbled, rearranging as my power forced her spine and ribcage to morph. The harsh yank to make her tail grow sent my head into a spin. Not a spin, a full-on exorcist twist.
She yowled, her agony cutting across the room. There were no more cords to knot, she was transformed. Draining the last of my strength, I used my power to cut the ties to her humanity in one sharp blow. Falling back, my power reeled into me with a snap that made my vision go black.
My head pounded as I crawled over to where the lioness lay quivering on the hard packed floor. Her breathing was labored and shallow. My fingers felt like water balloons, thick and full of liquid as I fumbled with the hard plastic case in my pocket. The spare clip for the air gun came apart in my hand, spilling out darts filled with liquid narcotic. I remembered what Father Mulcahy had told me.
It was designed originally to down elephants.
I pulled out three of them and slammed their wicked needles into Shani’s shoulder. They shook in my grip as they dumped their narcotic load into the lioness. She gave one last, sharp convulsion and then lay still, her breathing fast but even.
I sat back on my heels, head spinning.
Take that, you bitch.
40
“She’s all set up for you to see.”
My hand fell on the man’s arm. It was still thin under his gray coverall, but had wiry, redneck muscle to it. It was before opening and he wasn’t wearing his cap. His hair swept up shorter on the top and slicked at the sides of his head. The back hung long, like a thick curtain of wavy brown hair.
Jimmy the zookeeper still had the biggest damn mullet I had ever seen.
“Thanks, Jimmy. I appreciate the trouble.”
He waved the statement away. “No trouble at all. Anything for you. I still owe you.”
“How’s Cinnamon?”
His spindly goatee split into a wide, tobacco-stained grin. “She’s real good, man. She’s about ready to pop. The doctor says she might deliver early.”
“Good. Tell her we love her and miss her down at the club. I am sure the girls will be throwing her one helluva baby shower.”
I met Jimmy the zookeeper last year. The zoo had a Nosferatu that had set up a nest and was trying to grow a baby. He had helped me kill the damned thing and I had introduced him to Cinnamon, a sweet girl who worked at Polecats. They had hit it off and gotten married pretty quickly. It was nice to hear and I was happy for both of them.
We said our “see-you-laters” and I went back to work.
The hallway I walked down was wide and clean. One side was taken by a mural, the other with displays. There was no one else there, it was before opening and the crowds would not come until then.
My new boots sounded good on the tile floor. The leather boot heels landed with solid determination. Deep blood-red leather flashed at the end of my jeans with every step. They were a gift from Boothe and the rabbits. The dinosaur skin was thick but flexible and actually very comfortable.
I had asked what happened to the rest of the T. rex and been told that the rabbits had buried it where it lay. It was too big to move, so they just dug under it, sank it, and covered it over.
They’re rabbits. They dig. It’s what they do.
Boothe was back on his feet, his lycanthropy healing him slowly but surely. The skin on his right side was still shiny and pink, still thin like plastic wrap as it regenerated. Most of his hair had grown back, and even his eye was back. Mostly. He kept it hidden behind aviator sunglasses as it filled in. It had taken a few weeks, but he was starting to look almost normal.
He had brought the boots by the club on a particularly rowdy night when I was playing bouncer. He came in the door as I was hauling out two drunk frat boys who had gotten touchy-feely in the VIP room. He helped toss them out by their flipped collars, remaining calm and professional the whole time.
I offered him the job.
He took it and now ran the front door, checking IDs and keeping the chaos of the club to a dull roar. Some of the girls had been very excited when he came to work. I mean, the only guys who worked there were me and Father Mulcahy. Boothe was fresh meat. They preened and flirted with him. That is until he came to work and introduced them to Josh, a Were-rabbit accountant whom he had been dating for three years and shared a house with at the Warren.
I rounded a corner, walking up to the viewing area. It had a giant Plexiglas window that was roped off. Benches lined the area in front of it where families could sit and watch. I stepped in front of the floor-to-ceiling window.
On the other side sat the Atlanta Zoo’s newest addition: a dark furred African lioness.
Shani.
Feline eyes burned with hatred as she watched me. Her head was lowered, hackles raised like a wolf. I could feel the vibration through the glass as she purred with anger.
I closed my eyes and gave a small push, rolling my power out. It moved slowly toward the lioness. I probed in, making my power show me her lycanthropy. It was still a knot of silver cords, tangled up and wrapped tight.
Good.
The sound of rubber squeaking made me open my eyes and turn my head. My power rolled back up inside me like a tape measure.
Tiff rounded the corner, pushing a covered baby stroller.
My heart sped up seeing her. She had lost weight in the hospital, and once she got out she began a punishing cycle of training that had burnished her down and refined her. She was lean with muscle, still womanly, but all the little girl had been burned away.
The pink had been stripped out of her hair and the black had grown out, leaving her natural color, which was a deep chestnut brown. It hung over her left eye, making it hard to see the eye patch she wore. My heart hurt just a little to see her self-consciously keep it hidden. Her eye was gone, in its place were four dark red scars that slashed across the empty socket.
She stepped up beside me and I kissed her gently on the cheek. She gave me a little smile and a squeeze. Turning to the Plexiglas cage in front of us, she studied the lioness coldly. “She’s not happy to see us,” she said.
I turned to find Shani pacing in front of the window. Her head was down, lip curled in a snarl, hateful eyes glued to us even as she shifted direction from one side to the other.
“Just wait,” I said.
Reaching up, I flipped open the covering to the stroller. Shani stopped, frozen midstep, eyes locked on what was inside that stroller.
Three sleeping babies.
One was a bouncing baby boy with a head full of hair that striped gently in russet red and dark honey tawn. He sprawled, arms and legs kicked out. His skin had his mother’s pale European tone, and even this young you could see h
e had her ethnic European nose, but his face was his father’s. Marcus’s face.
On the other side of the stroller lay a cub. It was on its side, paws crossed in front of it. Its fur was thicker, shaggy and striped like his brother’s hair, russet red and honey tawn, making a pattern along his back and sides. A tiny mane circled a face that had a canine snout in a feline face. Mother’s nose, father’s face.
Between them their brother slept. His hands tucked by his face, claws retracted. Short fur striped up his chubby arms and legs, covering his skin. His hair was long and thick around a face that pulled the best from both brothers.
If their eyes weren’t closed, Shani would see that all of them had the same eyes: one blue, one brown, just like their mother.
Sophia’s babies had Larson in a frenzy of research. They were growing incredibly fast. They were only a few months old and already looked almost a year. They were all walking and eating solid food.
There was always a human, a cub, and a half-Were.
And they switched. Shifted. No one ever saw them do it, not even Sophia, but they would. One would change, then another would become what he had been. They had three distinct personalities, so you could tell when they were in a different form, but no one ever saw them actually shift.
Larson wanted me to use my power to feel them out. I refused. They were healthy. Strange, supernatural, and weird, but healthy and happy nonetheless. I wasn’t going to fuck with them.
Shani began to scream, a high-pitched caterwaul that shrieked through the glass. Her claws slashed at the thick barrier, trying to tear through. Trying to get at the babies.
The Plexiglas held, vibrating like a tuning fork and sending waves of percussion through the air that bounced off my skin, but it held nonetheless.
Tiff nudged me with her elbow, underimpressed, and pulled the stroller back. “Let’s go before she wakes the kids. Besides, I want to see the Monkey House.”
I gave her a grin. “You got it, babe.” We turned from the frenzied lioness, walking away without looking back.
“I wonder if the cotton candy stand is set up yet?”
FROM THE AUTHOR
Dear Loyals and True Believers,
Wow, book two. Thank you. Thank you so much for all the wonderful support you have given me. I hope you liked this installment in the adventures of everybody’s favorite occult bounty-hunter, Deacon Chalk.
Wait until you see what is coming up next!
More mayhem!
More monsters!
More Deacon!
It’s going to be a blast!
Now, I want to take a second and tell you just how important you are to me. Every book you bought, every review you posted, every time you came out to an event where I was, every time you sent me an e-mail or a letter or a comment, it was important to me. It all means so much in ways you will never know. I write these books for you my friend and I love it, truly love it, when you tell me you enjoyed them.
It means I am holding up my end of the bargain.
And that’s what a man does.
So keep reading my friend I will make sure it’s worth your time!
Take care until next time,
James R. Tuck
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2012 by James R. Tuck
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-0-7582-7979-8
Blood and Silver - 04 Page 25
