The light being, so much like Rick’s partner, Soul, but not, most certainly not, cavorted in the cold water, leaping in and out of the canal without a splash. When it came close to the shore, it halted, the light of its spirit body coruscating. It slithered closer, like a water snake, and seemed to dip part of its energies into a trail of the dead girl’s blood. It wrenched itself back, leaped into the air, and was gone. Something indefinable inside me mourned. And the light, what little there was of it, began to go.
“Shift,” Rick said as he cut through my clothing and loosened my holsters and my Kevlar vest. “Shift, Jane. Now!” He unbelted leather and zipped my pants down. Eli unlaced my boots, their flashlights dancing pools of light on the scrub around us. If the wolves came back they’d never know in time. I tried to tell them, but my mouth wasn’t working. I shivered in the cold air. Or in the cold of death. It’s hard to tell sometimes.
I sought the gray place of the change, the place of my skinwalker energies. But it eluded me, like phosphorescent water slipping through my fingers.
Beast? Can you help?
Jane is stupid human. But deep in my mind, I felt her bend and pick me up by the scruff of my neck. Holding me in her killing teeth as tenderly as though I were one of her kits.
And together we dropped into the gray place of the change.
The energies of what I had determined might be quantum mechanics, of the movement of electrons and neutrons and all the trons, were a nimbus of light, arcing and racing and waving and dancing in a silver cloud of light. The energies were struck through with darker sparks of black light and blue-white sparks of brilliance.
The pain increased, but a different kind of pain, sharper, cutting. As if my flesh were being stripped from my bones.
? ? ?
Beast leaped away from men, shaking free of boots and clothing and racing up a stunted tree. Screamed into the night, big-cat scream. Claiming life and hunting grounds and calling to spirit being that had fled the dead.
“Jane?”
I hissed. Am Beast. Not Jane. Jane is asleep inside. Then smelled blood. Not Jane blood. Not dead-girl blood. Not werewolf blood. Rick blood. I dropped to ground, sniffing. Opened mouth and pulled air in over scent sacs in roof of mouth. Tasting/smelling mate. He was injured.
I walked to him and stuck snout to arm. Rick held still, not even breathing. Smelled Rick and smelled werewolf. Rick was bitten. Backed away. Hissed, snarled. Turned to Brute and snarled again. Brute and Pea were Rick’s pack. His den-mates. Should have protected Rick like kit against predator, I thought at them. I growled and walked toward them. Angry. Should have protected mate.
Wolf backed away. Lowered head. Dropped dead werewolf. Like offering. Pea chittered from Brute back. Sounded sorry. Beast looked at Pea. Will mate become werewolf? Werewolf and were-cat too? Will mate die?
Pea jumped from Brute and raced to Rick. Climbed up his leg. Studied bite mark. Rick lifted Pea to shoulder and bent over Jane clothes.
“You’re hit,” Eli said, opening box with bandages. Voice was toneless, but Eli body’s smell changed, unhappy. Thinking many things. He put flashlight in mouth, held it with blunt human teeth. Ripped open large bandage. Cussed at sight of wound. “It bit you?” Placed sheet of white over Rick’s arm.
“Yeah.” Rick wrapped wounded arm and bandage in Jane T-shirt. Pea chittered softly. Sad. “Tie it off,” Rick said. Eli swathed T-shirt bandage in stinky stuff that changed shape to bind arm. Pressed on wound. Rick hissed with pain. “He tried to rip off a hunk of muscle, but he got distracted when Jane shot him full of silver.”
“Bad?”
“Hurts like a mother. But I’ll heal.”
“But . . .” Eli stopped. Bent and gathered up Jane clothes and weapons. “Let’s book. We got a hike to make. And two pissed-off wolves between us and it.”
“And you with their keys,” Rick said, laughter in tone. Rick said, “Brute. That thing dead?” Brute nodded head up and down, human gesture. Looks stupid. Pea chittered in triumph, claiming kill.
“Okay,” Rick said. Slung weapons over shoulder. Rick stood, wavering on two feet. Should be on four feet. Would not waver.
Brute looked at girl, dead on ground. She smelled of meat. Of food. Beast was hungry. Needed meat after change. Did not look at girl meat. Growled at Brute. Wolf dropped own head and turned away from prey meat.
“Jane?” Rick said. “Let’s get back to the . . . back to the . . . boat.” But Rick dropped to knees. And fell to ground, face in mud.
Pea leaped clear. Landed on Beast. Made soft mewling sound in ear, like kit. Beast chuffed with laughter.
Eli rearranged weapons and Jane gear. “Brute, get over here.” Wolf growled, knowing what Eli wanted. “You’ll carry him or I’ll shoot you myself,” Eli said. Not mad. Not angry. Speaking truth. Brute walked to Rick, growling.