Changeling Dawn

by Dani Harper

  It had definitely not happened to her other brothers, twins Culley and Devlin. Not yet, at least. Although she couldn’t imagine Culley ever being serious enough to settle down, or picture Devlin looking up from his physics experiments long enough to notice a woman. Her only sister, Carly, was a different story. Years ago, she had been the first in the family to take a mate, marrying a Changeling named Jake after a courtship of barely a month. She confided later that she had wanted Jake and her inner wolf had simply accepted her choice. Knowing her sister’s headstrong and stubborn nature, Kenzie couldn’t imagine Carly’s inner wolf bothering to argue with her about anything.

  As for herself, Kenzie was married to her work. Not because she’d planned it that way—well, not exactly—but hey, how many eligible Changelings did you run across in the middle of the Egyptian desert or the Chilean jungle? It was a good enough excuse to pull out and dust off at family gatherings anyway. She couldn’t expect her family to understand that there was something she had to do, something she felt she had to achieve before she could turn her attention to a mate. Her discoveries would have to be her children, because what she was looking for now just might ensure the future of all Changelings.

  Which sounded rather grandiose, even if it was true. She nuzzled the baby as she wondered where her siblings found their courage. How did they manage to build families and bring children—Changeling children—into a human world that would not welcome them? Especially after what had happened to James—he’d lost his first wife and unborn baby to a murderer, a human who thought it was his calling to exterminate werewolves. In his grief, her oldest brother had run as a white wolf for three decades, determined never to walk on two legs again....

  And then Jillian had come along.

  Birkie often said that love changed everything. Kenzie didn’t agree—love changed the people involved. It didn’t change the world. The baby squirmed on her shoulder and Kenzie sighed. Changing the world was what she had to do.

  Had to.

  She pulled the blanket up and lightly covered the baby’s head, then wandered out to the front porch. The sky was bright now, robin’s egg blue with creamy streamers of clouds. There was dew on the purple irises and the orange and yellow daylilies that flanked the steps. Baskets of flowers hung from the porch eaves, cascading blossoms of mauve and blue. The railings groaned under an assortment of window boxes and brackets filled with pots of all sizes, nearly hidden by the flowers they contained. All James’s handiwork of course.

  Kenzie shook her head in wonder. She knew all the forest’s plants by scent when she ran as a wolf. But in the wild, the plants looked after themselves—they needed nothing from her and she could just enjoy them. In human form, she couldn’t even keep a cactus alive. She whispered to the baby, “You’re so lucky I’m not your mom.”

  “I see Connor’s being Mr. Sensitivity again.” Birkie waved a hand at her from the depths of a comfortable old recliner tucked amid some tall potted plants. Kenzie grinned, partly because she was glad to see her friend and partly because Birkie never failed to look impeccable. Even though she’d been up all night assisting with the delivery of a brand new Macleod, her tangerine pantsuit was crisp, her white hair tidily swept into a chignon, her makeup flawless. Perhaps it was a glamor—after all, Birkie was rumored to have not just Fae blood but royal Fae blood—or perhaps her fashion acumen was a natural gift. Whatever it was, Kenzie knew she didn’t possess it, and ran a quick hand through her wavy hair in spite of herself. She hadn’t touched it since her shower and heaven only knew what it was doing.

  “Connor just wants me to be as happy as he is, that’s all. And in his book, that means having what he has.”

  Birkie reached up to play with the baby’s tiny fingers. “Well, he does have something pretty fabulous here.” She looked up at Kenzie’s face, suddenly intent. “You’ll have something fabulous too, dear. Something you truly want, very soon.”

  The hair stood up on the back of Kenzie’s neck and her scalp prickled. Birkie often saw things, knew things before they happened. Something I want ... “Maybe I’ll find something exciting at my new dig?”

  Birkie shook her head slowly. “What you need won’t be in the ground. But you’ll have to put away your fears to make room for it.” She rose from the chair and smoothed the bright fabric of her clothing. Her long-fingered hands, festooned with many silver rings and bracelets, appeared to brush away the remnants of her psychic vision as well. “Always easier said than done of course. People often hug their fears to them like teddy bears, even though they’re made of barbed wire instead of fluff. Human nature. Changeling nature too. Letting go of fear can be scarier than what you’re afraid of.”

  “Fear serves a purpose. It can keep you safe.” Kenzie didn’t like the direction this conversation had taken.

  “Not always.” Birkie put her hands on her hips and laughed at herself then. “And my goodness, I’m not sounding much better than Connor! What a serious topic we’ve gotten onto when we ought to be celebrating this amazing little addition to the family.” She bent and kissed the baby’s fingers. “Let’s have breakfast, shall we? It’s nearly noon and I’m famished. I made Zoey eat to keep up her strength—shoulda taken my own advice.”

  Greatly relieved, Kenzie followed her friend inside. “Do you want to hold the baby while I make breakfast? You’ve probably been up all night.”

  “Thanks honey, but I’m not tired enough to eat toaster waffles.”

  “Hey, I can cook!”

  Birkie just looked at her until Kenzie rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay. I admit it, my culinary skills are limited to whatever can be made with boiling water, a toaster, or a microwave. But frozen waffles aren’t that bad.”

  “Well, I guess they’ll keep you alive,” chuckled Birkie and patted her arm. “Oh, don’t feel bad, dear, you simply have other skills, that’s all. Being a top-drawer archaeologist takes up a lot of your time and attention—you were gone almost three years this last trip. Don’t think I saw you more than once every six months or so. And now that this gorgeous baby is finally here, I imagine you’ll be heading out all too soon to your next dig.”

  “In a few days. I was just waiting for the big event before I left.” Kenzie paused and nuzzled the baby. Normally she would have started her new dig much earlier in the season, May at least. But she’d wanted to see her new niece or nephew. And the project she’d been on had encountered difficulties, taking longer than planned. “I’m glad I finished up at Monte Verde when I did. I was so afraid I’d miss this.”

  “I imagine working in Chile is a lot different from working up north.”

  “Won’t miss the snakes and the spiders, that’s for sure. But I’m afraid I won’t find any plant species this time that you don’t already have.” By day, Birkie was the preternaturally efficient receptionist at Connor’s clinic. In her off hours, however, she was a master of herbs and medicinal plants. Most of her home and its expansive grounds were lovingly devoted to their cultivation. Kenzie had delighted in keeping her friend well supplied with unique seeds and tubers over the years.

  “That lemon verbena you brought me is growing like a weed in my greenhouse. The orchids, now, they’ll take a while. Might have blooms next year. Do you know that over a hundred plants are routinely used in the Chilean health-care system? I’m thinking about making a little educational trip one of these days.”

  “How soon? Can it wait till I get back from this dig? I’ll only be gone a few months this time.”

  “Well, I’m hardly going to go off and leave Connor just yet. We’ll see how things are when you’re finished with your project. Sounds like fun though, just like when we went to Scotland together a couple years ago.”

  Kenzie hadn’t expected that trip to be so much fun. She’d never intended to return to her home country, even for a visit. But then her parents had moved to Skye, and Birkie had been a willing travel companion, so how could she say no? As it turned out, they’d had a blast. And thankfully no one co
mmented on the fact that Kenzie hadn’t gone near the Caledonian forest where their family home had once stood.

  Birkie pulled out a skillet. “Omelet or scrambled?”

  “Are you talking one of your Kitchen Sink Omelets?” Birkie’s creation was so named because everything was in it but the proverbial fixture. “Because the answer is absolutely yes—if it’s not too much trouble.”

  “No trouble at all, honey. I was planning to make one for myself. Saw a little ham in the fridge earlier. Just pass me that bell pepper on the windowsill there.”

  Kenzie grabbed the bright red fruit, then took a breath. “Birkie? You know what you said about fear a little while ago?”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you, dear. You know how these things just come over me.”

  “No, no, I was wondering ... well, I had the dream last night.”

  Birkie didn’t take her eyes off the onion she was chopping, but Kenzie saw her brows go up. “Now there’s an interesting thing. It’s been a mighty long time, hasn’t it?”

  “The dream’s popped up once in a while when I’ve been really stressed, but I haven’t had it in years and years. Think it means something?”

  “Honey, everything means something.”

  Anya’s running shoes made little sound on the soft forest floor as she raced along a game trail, trying desperately to elude her pursuers. Her pink shorts and T-shirt were torn by the branches, there were scratches on her legs and arms from the wild roses and devil’s club bushes. Still she ran on, ran as her mother had told her to do.

  They know. They know. The men were closer now, although the dogs whined and strained at their leashes and refused to go with them. Some broke away and fled, their high-pitched yelps becoming fainter. Suddenly the roar of engines erupted from the bottom of the hill, filled the silent woods with noise. ATVs rammed into the brush, shoved their way along the trails.

  She couldn’t run much longer. The tears had dried in pale streaks on her small face, her grief and fear over her mother displaced by exhaustion and panic. What could she do? Where could she hide? Her mother had told her to run and now she couldn’t.

  The terrain was rougher here, boulders appeared as if they had erupted from the forest floor, and tree roots encased the rocks like octopus tentacles clutching hapless crabs. Anya dodged and darted among the trees, between the rocks, as the game trail led steeply upward.

  It slowed her down. It slowed her pursuers too, but not enough. A quick glance behind her showed a flash of white—an ATV was looking for a path up the ridge. Finally she clambered to the crest, where a row of spruce trees marched like giant soldiers. The other side of the hill fell steeply away and its foot was cleft by a deep ravine. Anya could hear the rushing, tumbling water at its rocky bottom despite the noise of her pursuers. Without a second thought, she was racing, falling, scrambling down the hill. She gained a clear stretch of ground and put the last of her strength into running full tilt for the edge of the ravine. Trusting her instinct, she leapt—

  And came down on four feet on the other side. The young wolf paused for only a moment, eyeing her pursuers gathered at the top of the ridge, committing their faces and their scents to memory.

  Then she raced away into the welcoming forest.

  Chapter Two

  Kenzie took a plane to Seattle from Edmonton, where it had taken nearly two hours to get all her supplies and equipment through U.S. Customs. It was worth the wait to her. She preferred to bring as many of her own things as possible, the tools she was familiar with and the supplies that had been proven useful in many previous camps. The customs officer eyed her as he picked up each of her worn tools, the grips that had gradually assumed the shape of her own hand over time and been polished by her sweat. He no doubt thought she was eccentric for bringing what surely must look like junk to him. Was she even old enough to be eccentric? Probably.

  The thick gray clouds gradually cleared away as her second flight headed up the coastline to Alaska. Blue sky greeted her as the plane touched down at the Ted Stevens International Airport in Anchorage. Kenzie had been in many airports all over the world, but she’d never seen one decorated with stuffed wildlife before. A glass case housed a taxidermic polar bear that towered over the bustling passengers, raising its paws toward the enormous Welcome to Alaska sign. She counted a half dozen bears of various types, a deer, a beaver, and several geese, and marveled at a huge salmon and a 400-pound halibut. Exquisite native art was everywhere and one piece in particular caught her eye. It was a reproduction of a historic piece, a carved wooden wolf mask, painted with the traditional coastal colors of turquoise, red, and black. The pelt of a large white wolf was attached to it and Kenzie found herself wondering if a shaman had once donned one like it. Had he been enacting a ritual, trying to ensure a successful hunt? Had he worn it in hopes of transforming himself? Or had he hoped to gain the skill that some members of the Tahltan tribe were rumored to have—the ability to detect a shapeshifter in human form?

  As an anthropologist and archaeologist, she was fascinated. As a Changeling, however, she was repelled—James was a white wolf in his lupine form, and she had a momentary flashback to her childhood. To the marketplace at Torridon and its stacks of pelts, both wolf and Changeling ...

  She walked quickly away but came upon a glass case with taxidermic wolves. They were positioned stiffly with artificial snarls and plastic fangs. Jeez, it’s definitely past time to leave this airport.

  At the rental counter she flashed a worn membership card, signed forms and picked up her keys. The company had provided her with exactly what she’d ordered—a full-size pickup truck with four-wheel drive and a canopy to protect her gear. They didn’t usually keep such vehicles at their airport lot, but had brought it over from another site. She hadn’t specified color but noted with approval that it was a nondescript taupe. Or was it tan? Whatever it was, it wouldn’t show all of the dirt and dust it was about to collect.

  Kenzie slid behind the wheel and closed the door, relishing the sudden quiet and relieved to be alone at last. She was itching to get on the road but it was far too late in the day for that. By the time she arrived in the area, she’d end up looking for her site in the dark, so she conceded to spend the night at a motel.

  Luckily, the sun rose early this far north, and she was up and on the road by five with a steaming mocha in the cup holder. The first leg took her northeast along the Glenn Highway. It was July and summer ruled—the breeze was warm, the sky was hazy blue, the forests boasted a hundred different greens. And the mountains ... Kenzie found herself driving slower and slower, all but mesmerized by the stunning scenery. The gently rolling land of northern Alberta, especially the Peace River country where the town of Dunvegan had grown up, was beautiful, all the more so because it was dear to her heart. Yet it didn’t compare to Alaska’s raw wilderness and pointed peaks. Everything here was bigger, taller, grander somehow. Two of the massive snow-topped mountains on the horizon were actually active volcanoes but there was nothing except her guidebook to identify them as such—they were as high and jagged as the rest of the Wrangell range that marched along the horizon. She drank in the beauty but thought it was almost too much for one person. This caliber of scenery should be shared....

  Wildlife crossed the road frequently, moose and deer and even grizzly, all unconcerned by the few vehicles and in no particular hurry. One giant silver-tipped bear sat down on the yellow line as if to rest, or maybe he just liked the heat of the pavement. Kenzie slowed to a stop long before she reached him and waited until he decided to amble off. He must have weighed a thousand pounds, but she wasn’t worried in the least, knowing that even grizzlies wouldn’t attack a Changeling.

  Only humans did that.

  The highway was punctuated by a series of small communities and she found herself unexpectedly missing the little town of Dunvegan. It was the only place she felt a sense of sanctuary. Maybe because her family had lived there on and off since they’d left Scotland. Maybe because the Pac
k was there, a kind of extended family, and there was relative safety in numbers. Birkie was there, her dearest friend. And as Birkie had often said, home was wherever the people you cared about were. I should have stayed longer, I really should have. Kenzie rubbed at her eye with the heel of her hand—

  —and had to swerve as a man leapt out from behind a truck at the side of the road, waving his arms. Holy Jeez! Quickly, she pulled over just ahead and jumped out, determined to give the stranger a piece of her mind. Her businesslike gait slowed a little as she got a better look at the white truck. There was a small flasher mounted on the roof—had she almost run over a state trooper? Her initial fury fizzled out like a wet firecracker. Crap, crap, crap. As she got closer, the insignia on the door gave her a little relief: Alaska Department of Fish and Game. It was somewhat better on the scale of offenses to nearly hit an ADFG officer than a trooper, wasn’t it?

  She fervently hoped so.

  The man in question rolled a tire from behind the truck, straightened up and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Thanks for stopping. Didn’t think you were going to.”

  For a long moment, Kenzie couldn’t say a word. He was easily as tall as any of her brothers, lean like Culley and Devlin, yet his build was deceptive. He had power. It radiated from him effortlessly, naturally, as if he drew it from deep in the earth beneath his feet. Sure of himself, yet she detected no arrogance in the obsidian eyes that were studying her intently. Long strands of rich brown hair had worked themselves loose from where they’d been tied at the base of his neck. Kenzie had a sudden crazy urge to brush them back—and to let her hand linger.

  “I—you scared the hell out of me!” she blurted.