Circle of the Moon (Soulwood #4)

I didn’t move.

“I told him all that, not to lay claim to you like a possession, but to provide you with what protection I could, from the men in the church who might still want to claim you and your land. And since we’re looking for total clarity,” he added, “I didn’t ask his permission. I informed him. Just like I informed the vampire that I was not interested in being her dinner or her sex toy.”

Occam lifted his hand and stroked his fingers along my jaw, soft as heated silk. I exhaled, the breath shuddering slightly. “Occam,” I whispered, “you might not shoulda done that. Courting is for a permanent relationship. Marriage or concubinage.”

“I was made fully aware of that by your daddy,” he murmured.

His eyes were the bright, shining gold of his cat. He was standing so close that his breath teased across my shoulder and curled down my chest. His fingers slid along my nape and into my hair and tugged along my leaves sprouting there. They shivered and so did I.

“And?” I whispered. The word was almost silent, but his cat ears picked it up.

“And I told him that when you were ready you could ask me to marry you. Or ask me to become your concubine.”

My mouth opened slightly. A male concubine? Oh. That was … new. And shocking. And—

“I told him I was yours and that if you’d have me, you were mine. I told him I’d kill any of his church people who harmed you or Mud. And because he’s a man of the Word of God, I told him I was cleaving to you. And I also told him that if you sent me away, I’d go and give you whatever time or space you needed. But that I was yours. Forever.”

“Oh …” I breathed out.

“Yes. Big-cats don’t mate forever. Werecats don’t either. But I do.”

A quiet voice in the dark of my brain hoped his tie to Soulwood wasn’t forcing this.

“I’m yours, Nell, whenever you want me.”

That didn’t sound like a Soulwood binding talking. But …

When I didn’t reply, he said, “There’s this line of dialogue in an old movie I watched when I was a kid. A knight or something like it telling his king, ‘I am yours to command.’ Nell, you’re in charge of this thing we might have, like that king was. I am yours to command. You are in charge, Nell, sugar. Totally. In every way.”

I swallowed, the sound dry and kinda rubbery. Occam’s fingers smoothed the leaves in my hairline and I felt a tremor run through me, thick and heavy and all twisted with meaning. It was like vines crawling over and across one another, winding and curling together. You are in charge, Nell, sugar. Totally. In every way … Heck fire. I wasn’t even in control of my own life yet and here was Occam pretty much giving me his life. It was a heady and terrifying feeling. I’d never had anyone give themselves to me before. “Oh,” I managed again. Definitely not Soulwood. I could think of absolutely nothing to say. Nothing at all. Silence stretched between us like heated taffy.

Occam reached out and took my hand. And lifted it to his mouth. He pressed my woody nails against his lips in a kiss that heated all the way to my toes. “Nell, sugar? Let’s eat.”

I nodded and turned to the kitchen. My legs felt a little wobbly and my breath was coming a mite too fast. Helping get the food on the table eased my shock some, however, and we sat at one end, me at my place, where I had recently staked my claim to the head of the table, and Occam to my left. That was where Leah had sat when I was part of a polygamous household. It felt strange to have Occam there, after the conversation we’d just had. The cats leaped to the tabletop and Occam said, “Later you,” as he put them down. “I got treats for you.”

“You’re spoiling my mousers.”

He grinned and picked up a thin square of ham with his fingers and bit into the greasy goodness. I used a knife and fork. “I passed a guy cutting up a downed oak tree in town,” he said, by way of conversation. “I stopped to talk and he’ll give away the wood if you’ll take care of delivery and splitting. You want it?”

“Some idiot’s giving away free wood? Yes.”

“He’ll split it for thirty bucks a cord. You want it split?”

“I’m not paying some yahoo to split wood. Townies always leave it too thick and I have to split it again anyway.”

“You got a good ax?”

“Yep.” I had a good ax and a strong back, but I didn’t say that.

“How many cords?”

“Whatever he’ll let me have. I usually go through four cords each winter. Sometimes five. If the wood is too green, it’ll have to dry this winter and I can use it next. I’ll see if Sam will handle the delivery.”

“I’ll help Sam, if he wants,” Occam said, casually.

I hesitated, feeling that there was something more than general kindness and neighborliness in his tone, but since I couldn’t decipher what it might be I let it go. “You know Sam will likely have a brotherly talk with you, now that you talked with my daddy. It might contain threats of bodily harm should you beat me.”

“I would certainly hope so, Nell, sugar.”

I wasn’t completely sure what he meant by that, but it didn’t sound as if he intended to fight Sam. “Okay. Long as you’re prepared for whatever Sam throws your way,” I said.

“I give you my word of honor,” Occam said, his face grave but his eyes alight with mischief, “that I will not eat your brother.”

I burst out laughing, which he surely intended. I sobered quickly and said, “Sam knows you’re a wereleopard. That means others in the church might. And some a them—some of those—others might want to hurt you.”

“I’ll be careful on all fronts.”

Before I could figure out what to say next, our cells dinged with texts from JoJo. “This is getting to be a bad habit,” Occam muttered, reading his aloud. “‘Highway Patrol found Rick’s car. Crashed. Rick not there. Get there ASAP.’ There’s a GPS and a map. It’s close to Rick’s house.”

I read mine aloud, “‘Get to Rick’s house and see if he’s there.’ Ditto on the GPS and map.” It was the first time ever that I had used the word ditto. It felt all modern and townie coming out of my mouth, but there wasn’t time to enjoy it. It was still light out and too early for a summoning, but this accident of Rick’s felt bad on multiple levels.

We dropped the dishes in the sink and raced outside, me grabbing my gear on the way. “Do you know if Rick was wearing the antimagic amulet made by the Knoxville coven?” I asked as we bounded down the steps.

“I never saw him put it on. Doesn’t mean he didn’t.”

We roared out of the driveway, Occam in his fancy car and me a lot slower in my Chevy C10 truck.

It took more than half an hour to get there, and as I drove, I got word that Tandy would be joining me at Rick’s place. Rick had moved recently to a rental house on Hunter’s Trail, near a swatch of wooded land and a low ridge of hill marked by one of Knoxville’s ubiquitous and overbuilt power lines. There were black walnut trees growing in the area, and I remembered the black walnut branch at the witch circle. I’d never been to Rick’s and was surprised as I drove up the short drive. I had expected a bachelor pad and found instead a comfortable-looking family home with shutters and a small, covered front stoop. Tandy pulled in behind me and I followed him up the walkway to the porch. “Can you tell if he’s here?” I asked.

Tandy stopped and looked around, or would have if his eyes were open. He turned in a circle with his eyes closed, as if seeing things I couldn’t. “No,” he said. “I don’t sense his emotions in either form.”

“His emotions are different in cat form?” I asked, surprised.

“Very. Rick is primitive, hungry, and violent when he’s a cat. There’s less disunion in Occam’s human and cat sides, but he’s been a cat for a long time and has managed to put himself back together emotionally.”

“How?” I asked.

Tandy hesitated. “He hasn’t told me, but I think Soul knows. I think Soul helped. Occam’s emotions are very restrained, well-ordered, and structured. He’s reserved and deliberate, and when he does lose control of his cat, he gets it back quickly. There are times when he has more difficulty than others, of course, but for the most part, Occam owns his emotions even when in leopard form. Rick loses command when he’s a cat and has to fight to dominate his were-self. Sometimes he doesn’t manage that.”

“Oh.” I didn’t ask what areas Occam’s cat had trouble with. That seemed too intrusive.