Shepherd's Moon (42 page)

Authors: Stacy Mantle

I began explaining as he rifled through Adolfo’s jacket for his cell phone, tossing it to me, and then did the same to Keenan. A quick glance told me both phones were locked and I wasn’t in the mood to do any hacking tonight. Instead, I grabbed Tristan’s arm as I ran through the door pressing the transmitter in my ear, “I have to get a hold of Billy and Brock!”

We rushed down the long hallway as I hastily relayed the abbreviated version of our makeshift plan. Pushing open an emergency exit, I half fell through the door before Tristan grabbed my shoulder and stopped me. Whirling around, I let loose with another wave of the psychic power I hadn’t known I possessed, and he flew back through the doorway as though someone had physically tossed him.

Slowly, he picked himself up as I watched in stunned silence. “Yeah, you’re definitely going to have to get better at controlling that.”

With a mumbled apology, I kept moving. The only thing I had to worry about right now was getting to an open area where signals weren’t blocked. When I finally pushed past two more sets of doors, I stumbled into the cool night air and heaved a sigh of relief as I pressed the transmitter once more, praying that the signal was strong enough to reach them.

Static filled my ear.

No, no, no, no, no…
I dropped to my knees, not caring that the diamond-encrusted dress I wore was beyond destroyed. I had to find a way to reach them. Somehow I had to warn them.

I felt a warm hand on my shoulder and turned to face Tristan. “Call them, Alex. Call them the way you were made to call them.”

“They’re too far away!” I nearly screamed. “I’m not strong enough.”

But even as I said the words, I knew they were a lie. I had knocked two men across a room without laying a finger on them. I had stormed the mind of a fellow Shepherd.

I was strong enough…

Closing my eyes, I focused on Brock and Billy in the kitchen just as they had been earlier that week, Billy draped over the table eating an apple as Brock calmly put groceries away. Holding onto the memory, I screamed out to them in my mind, warning them of the danger. Warning them of Daniel…

And the image of the two of them in the kitchen was replaced with an image of Brock stopping suddenly in an empty hallway, turning slowly to look at Billy. Behind him, Daniel and the newer members of the team followed. Without a word, Billy lunged at Daniel, pinning him to the ground as he yelled for the others to get to safety. I watched as he violently yanked Daniel to his feet, dragging him down the hall.

Was it shock or betrayal I saw in Daniels eyes?

Behind them, a room exploded, the impact driving Billy and Daniel through a window.

But were they safe? Were they all safe?

Exhausted, I felt myself falling as the energy drained from my body. Just breathing felt suddenly too overwhelming. As I fell, strong arms caught me and pulled me close to a warm chest.

“I’ve got ya, darlin’.”

“You shouldn’t let them climb all over you like that, Alex.” Billy watched with a look of disapproval as Tau and Pasha climbed over me. I was lounging on the floor, pushing them playfully away as they jumped at me.

Nearly three weeks had passed since we almost died at the hands of Adolfo and Keenan. Now, both men were resting comfortably, or rather — uncomfortably— deep in the basement of a new prison — an old base that we had picked up from the military in exchange for the use of our team once in awhile. It was operated by Richard who had finally grown tired of waiting for me to pick up preternatural murderers from the local police department. With all the clones running around the world, it would take awhile to round them up and we needed a place to keep them while they were evaluated. The Council felt it was a worthy allocation of funds.

Adolfo was at the mercy of the Council and would be facing an inquiry next month. Keenan was at the mercy of Richard, and his extensive group of agencies, some of which I had just learned of this week. My pack was safe for the moment, and had even been expanded a bit as Nia and Gifford explored where they wanted to live.

“They deserve a little fun,” I told Billy, fending off yet another mock attack from the cubs. This attack resulted in five rather large claws coming a little too close for comfort at my face. “Retracted claws only, guys!”

“Geez, they’re working as a team now,” Brock observed.

Brock had a more difficult time than the rest of us, and was spending more time in his wolf form these days. While I could feel every ounce of his pain, I couldn’t seem to find a way to decrease it. The loss of a twin was not something to be taken lightly, even if the twin was a complete dick.

Billy watched the kittens play a few minutes more before finally stripping off his clothes and shifting shape with a playful growl, allowing the young cubs to pounce on him. They had a particular fascination with his long, brushy tail.

Nia lounged nearby in her preferred form of cheetah. She had searched her entire life for a pride, and finally felt safe. A flick of her tail and the battle was over as the cubs ran to her. She had become our official big cat nursemaid — a role she took on naturally and with a grace that even Modnik approved of. My jaguar was making a quick recovery both physically and mentally.

Gifford stood nearby, quietly observing the scene before disappearing to his room. An educated man, he was quick to volunteer his services as a tutor for the twins once they were old enough. It was in this house that Nia and Gifford had finally found peace in acceptance.

Daniel remained safe in our cell downstairs until we figured out what to do with him. While he was a model prisoner, I had mixed feelings about him. In his mind, I found something soft and redeemable. He had been a victim of circumstance — that was all. While Brock and Richard insisted we keep them secure, I had my doubts this was the best course of action and spent far too many hours downstairs talking with him, playing board games and ensuring he had plenty of conversation. It wasn’t obvious that he knew what he was. When we told him, he appeared to be as surprised as we were.

The time to determine his role in our pack would soon come. For now, he was a prisoner. But I knew the hour was approaching that I would be forced to make a decision and either integrate him into the pack or have him euthanized… And euthanasia was not an option.

The loud ring of my cell phone jolted me out of my thoughts. A quick check of the caller ID didn’t display a number, but I answered anyway.

“Alex,” a voice said. It was a voice I knew and recognized. A voice we had been missing since even before these events had occurred. It was one that Brock recognized as well and his ears moved forward as he growled softly at the cubs.

I cleared my throat. “Bren? Where are you?” Brock jerked forward, moving close to the phone.

“Seattle,” Bren said calmly.

“What’s happened, Bren? Where have you been?” I asked.

He hesitated. “Look, just get everyone up here. I’ll explain it all later.”

And then the line was dead. I cursed and hung up the phone. “Get Tristan and Richard on the phone,” I said, standing and moving towards my office.

Brock jogged behind me, asking incredulously through his thoughts,
Was that Bren?

I nodded, checking to be sure Billy was following us. He trotted directly behind me. It was no longer necessary for them to shift for me to understand them.

Where is he?
Brock prodded.

“Seattle,” I said. “We need to get packed.”

Keenan Fa’al may be out of the picture, but we still had Parallax to deal with, along with fifty years of research they had been conducting.

I like to think I have my own part in the play, but the truth is, I remain a secondary character in the book of life.

I am a Shepherd.

It’s taken me a long time to say those words. Even longer to accept them. Nevertheless, there is a certain comfort and familiarity in accepting my fate. Embracing it for the first time in my life.

There are some who are destined for a life of normalcy.

I am not one of them…

THE END

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