Cold Moon Rising Part 5

She went even paler than she already was, until the dark freckles on her nose stood out in sharp relief.

"Not for generations. Please tell me I'm not going to turn! G.o.d, I wouldn't know what to do." Heather turned to her friend with tears in her eyes. "I know it's not your fault. Truly. But I'm scared for you, Liz. You don't know what these people are like. I didn't want to tell you when I heard your dad talking to Wolven yesterday. I just wanted to run away and hide. But I couldn't leave you. Not like this."

Liz's face was a study in amazement-probably very similar to my own when Bobby first talked to me about stuff I couldn't grasp. "What are you talking about, Heather? What is Wolven? And who in the world brought in Chinese food just now? I didn't even know we had a takeout restaurant in town."

Chinese? I took a sniff and suddenly understood. She related to emotions the same way as me . . . by comparing them to things I could understand. To me, fear smells like hot-and-sour soup. I wished there was an easier way to break this to her. She seemed like a nice kid. "You're starting to be able to smell emotions, Liz. That particular one is fear. It smells good, doesn't it? Hard to keep from trying to find the source. Makes your stomach growl."

She turned to stare at me and her eyes got wide as her stomach did, indeed, growl at that moment. Lucas figured out what I was doing and joined in. "You're swallowing a lot now, aren't you? And your nose is trying to follow, which is why your head keeps trying to turn. Like walking past a bakery with fresh bread filling the air. Your kind doesn't normally find such large game compelling, but you're not precisely . . . normal anymore. And frankly, I don't know exactly what you will need to eat." He paused meaningfully. "Tonight. When the moon is full, and you shape-shift into a very large and possibly feral badger. The same as you did last month-during the tornado. That's why we're here, Liz. It wasn't the storm that destroyed the water tower. It was you. What did you eat last month at this time? Can you even remember?"

She was backing away from us now, shaking her head, panic and confusion plain on her face. But there was nowhere to go. Lucas was easing off on the shield he had over me and himself, letting magic fill the air. It wasn't helping the fear level of the others any. Paul didn't move quickly, possibly understanding how that would be seen. But he was so ill right now that his scent wasn't particularly appealing.

Heather, however . . . she started to twitch and make abrupt small movements that said she was about to bolt. Liz couldn't seem to take her eyes from her friend, her muscles spasming with each twitch.

"You're all insane." The moment her mouth opened, though, the drool that slipped down her chin gave her away. Heather saw it and shrieked. When she did that, the scent of fear doubled and a low, hungry growl came from my throat, even though I was stuffed full of steak. A flick of her eyes my way didn't help calm Heather. She dove from the room.

I didn't want to follow. I swear. I don't hunt humans. But that sudden movement, combined with the fear, was just too much without Lucas's shield. Blood filled my vision and a snarl erupted from deep in my chest. What I found weird was that Lucas didn't try to stop me. What was his plan?

Then it didn't matter anymore because I was across the room, pushing Liz out of the way to get through the doorway where the cat had gone. The new turn didn't push so easily, though. A flare of light, the color of a rainsoaked sunrise, flashed out and then she was on me, pushing me to the ground. We shattered the coffee table in the process and magazines scattered into the air. A shard of gla.s.s six inches or more across slashed into my back. I was pretty impressed with Paul, because all he did was lift his legs out of the way, as though we were two unruly toddlers tussling underfoot. The girl's brute force was amazing. It was like having a brick wall fall on me, and the sound that erupted from her was vicious and keening, a counterpoint to my deep snarls.

Seconds later, our hands were raised with simultaneous intent to harm the other when time froze . . . and so did we. I'd had it happen more times than I'd care to count, so I just relaxed and waited. Liz, on the other hand, freaked . . . out. All she could move were her eyes and they were twitching and straining against whatever invisible force held her. Her aura roiled and spiked, seeking escape from the bubble. Then, to prove his point, I guess, Lucas released his hold on me. Just me. I was able to crawl painfully out from underneath her, my breath coming out in small gasps. I hoped the gla.s.s hadn't hit a lung. I'd had worse before, but breathing is something I've learned to enjoy.

Soon she was perched in midair, one leg fully off the floor, along with the opposite hand. It was still curled into a claw with powder-pink nails pointed right at where my face had been. Her face was twisted into a snarl, teeth bared, and her neck and shoulders were bent forward like either a vulture on a fence, or a gargoyle on a building ledge. I let Lucas slowly pull out the shard and managed to keep the wincing to a minimum. But man that stings! Then I moved over to stand on the tiled entry, where I wouldn't add any more blood to the carpet. She continued to battle against something she'd never defeat all the while.

The Wolven chief wiped my blood off his hands then leaned over and sopped up the excess dripping down my shirt with some tissues he grabbed from a box on the end table. He eased back into the couch cushions and continued to hold the la.s.so of blue-white magic tightly around her while he watched her struggle. When she'd finally settled down, a minute or more later, he spoke, his voice calm, almost soothing. "Do you understand now, Ms. Kendall? You are Sazi . . . as much animal as human now. Magically born and tied forever to the phases of the moon. Can you see why it's vital that you be trained to handle these new abilities and emotions?" Liz's eyeb.a.l.l.s rolled up and to the side until mostly white was showing, to be able to see him. She blinked once, with effort. He acknowledged that small movement with a tiny smile. "Now, I'm hoping that attacking my a.s.sociate was because you felt protective of your friend. Defending a human while under stress would go a long way toward the council's approval of you having some limited independence after your training. Just don't lie about your motives. You won't be looked at harshly for your motives at this stage. But lying changes your body chemistry. Other Sazi can smell it, and you could be punished. So before you're asked later, think carefully and be honest with yourself. Sort out your exact thoughts while you were charging him. Was he an enemy, attempting to harm your friend? Or . . . and this is something you're going to have to consider long and hard . . . was he a potential meal?"

Paul sighed and turned in his chair to face his daughter. "I know all this seems impossible, Lizzie, but you needed to understand why I called these men to meet you. You're nothing if not like me-hardheaded. You have to see something to believe it. You probably don't remember, but even though your mama never turned, she . . . felt all the same things you are right now, each and every full moon. And your grandfather in London does turn. Now, I truly believe you don't have a dangerous thought in your head, sweetheart. But you see just how fast that all happened? It was seconds. There was no time for thought. It was pure instinct, just like during the storm last month. Can't you see the blood where Mr. Davis was lying? You would have killed a regular human if there'd been n.o.body to stop you like Alpha Santiago just did.

She stilled completely then, taking her father's words to heart. Her eyes dropped to the carpet. The blood was starting to dry at the edges, adding a rust color to the vivid red on the pale tan pattern. Heather peeked out from the doorway, apparently noticing it had gotten quieter. She flinched a little at her friend's position and the blood on the floor, but she handled it pretty well, considering.

Heather bent down sideways from the waist until she caught Liz's eyes. She smiled brightly, her scent filled with oranges and cookie spice. "Wow, Liz! You are amazing. Thank you so much for trying to stop him. That goes way above and beyond the call for a roomie. You're the best." Then she stood back in the corner again, probably staying as far away from me as possible.

Rather than just dropping her abruptly like he's done to me more than once, Lucas released Liz slowly. She was able to get her arm and leg under her before she did a face-plant onto the floor. But even after she was free to move, she wasn't precisely . . . free to move. He kept a thin tether on her, the lightest touch, just so she'd know he was there. She did, and it made her rub her arms like they were cold every time she glanced at him.

She turned to me after staring at the bloodstain for a few long moments, and was close to tears. "I'm really, really sorry, Mr. Davis. That wasn't like me. I swear. But when you-" She paused and flicked her eyes toward Heather before returning to me. "I've always had a temper, but this was-" She just shook her head, unable to continue. Her eyes closed and she wrapped her arms around herself, withdrawing inward to let it sink in until she could deal with it. Her remorse was obvious from the thick, misty scent of fog in the air and lasted until her father put a comforting hand on her leg. It apparently helped a little, because she was able to stop shaking and look up again. "And here you are, standing bleeding like a stuck pig when we should be getting you to the hospital for st.i.tches."

I held up one hand. "It's okay. No st.i.tches required, and no apologies necessary. My fault entirely and don't worry, I'll heal. That's one really good thing about this whole magical, shape-shifter c.r.a.p. We heal really fast. By nightfall, you'll never know I was hurt. For the record, I don't think I would have hurt your friend and I know Lucas wouldn't have let me. I normally have pretty good control over myself, so I'm a little surprised I went into chase mode. I don't eat people." I locked eyes with her and then raised my brows. "I don't think you do either."

She went a little green, with eyes moving toward the stain of red and then back to me. "The thought of meat right now makes me nauseous, frankly. At least the blood blends in with your dark hair enough that it's not noticeable, but you need different clothes before you leave here. People will definitely talk in this town if you walk out with blood on you."

All four of us looked at her oddly, but for entirely different reasons. Heather was the first to voice it.

"Um, he has blond hair, Liz. And the red shows up really well."

Liz blinked once, looked at me again, and then looked to her father for confirmation. He nodded. "Pale as your brother's when he was little . . . a regular towhead."

Heather started to speak again when Lucas held up a hand. "Describe the two of us, Liz. Tell me what you see. n.o.body coach her."

She seemed uncertain now, her fingernails tapping a staccato on her jeans. "Well . . . Mr. Davis must have an Italian mother, because he's medium height, with dark hair and a sort of broad nose. Early thirties, I think. Oh, and sort of blue-grayish eyes. It's hard to tell from here. And lots of muscles. You must work out a lot." I nodded as Heather stared at me again before rubbing her eyes in disbelief. In fact, the soured milk smell of disbelief was pretty thick in the room about then. I was thinking that everybody in the room was bleeding it out their pores.

Then she turned to Lucas, and even I was surprised at what she said. "You're Native American, but I can't really tell from which tribe. Probably in your late twenties. Dark hair, dark eyes, bronze skin-the whole package. Might even be a little Mayan in your heritage. There was one guy in school my junior year who was Mayan, from way up in the Andes, and you sort of have his nose."

The seconds ticked by and Lucas remained silent. He didn't confirm or dispute the claim, which sort of answered it as far as I was concerned. The girl could see through illusions. I'd heard of that from Bobby, but it was one of those really, really rare gifts . . . like my hindsight. In fact, I didn't think anyone alive had it right now. That made her extremely dangerous, because illusion magic is the stock and trade of the Sazi. Especially Wolven and the council. Unless they drafted her straight into Wolven . . . but a lot of that depended on temperament. She might not be suited. I know more than one Alpha who isn't lawenforcement material. It only works with me because I came out of being an enforcer for Carmine, and the rules of the Sazi aren't all that different from the mob. They hate it when I say that, but it's true.

At last the big guy spoke, his voice flat and firm. I wasn't surprised at what he said, but it obviously wasn't what Liz wanted to hear. "You'll be flying back to Boulder with us today. We'll get you on your way to England to train as soon as the full moon is over. I'd suggest starting to pack if you want to take your own things."

Her hands went to her hips and the hazel eyes were flashing pink-gold fire. It was sort of cute for the few seconds the fit of temper was going to last before Lucas choked it off. "Uh, h.e.l.lo? I don't think so. I'm leaving tomorrow for the coast. I have interviews for an apartment. Fine, I won't travel at night. I'll find some cave or something to hide in for a few days a month. But I'm not going to Boulder, or to freakin' England! I don't do flying, and I don't even own a pa.s.sport."

It made me smile, because it sounded a lot like me when I'd first found out about the shifting stuff. But eventually I was going to have to watch that bright spark of enthusiasm and . . . s.p.u.n.k get crushed into cracker crumbs.

Well, heck! What better time than now? I held up a pair of digits. "Two problems with that scenario, kiddo." I lowered my middle finger when she turned to face me. "First, you can say you'll lock yourself up and not go out at night, but it won't work that way. Let me regale you with the tale of shredded doors, broken windows, and hunting ducks at the petting zoo someday . . . with a bonus interview of what duck bones and feathers feel like coming out the other side. I can't imagine that typical badger food of mice or prairie dogs will feel any better."

She and Heather both made a face. "Eww-"

I lowered my index finger until I had a nice tight fist before I dropped it on top of the other arm crossed over my chest. "Second, you remember that nifty trick Santiago did, holding you motionless? Guess what? He can make you walk even better. Been there, done that. He's just offering you the courtesy of going under your own power. But trust me, if he says you're going, you are. And there's not a person in this town who won't believe that you got in our truck completely willingly-with a smile on your face."

She paused to consider that and looked again at Lucas like she couldn't quite believe it. I saw the rope of magic increase just a bit and then her hand rose to the top of her head of its own accord, while she stared at it in panic. She even grabbed the arm with her other hand to tug it down, but it stayed firmly in place.

I shrugged. "Any more questions?"

Heather leaned closer and whispered in her ear. "Like I said . . . these guys are scary. My cousin has told me stories that would curl your hair about one of the female big cats. She's French and gets a kick out of pain."

I heard a sigh and turned my head. So did the girls. Paul had been watching Lucas the whole time, apparently. Probably trying not to watch his daughter get her lessons. That can't be fun for a dad.

"Wolven specializes in tracking down shape-shifters who break the law, Lizzie. Sometimes they have to get rough. Just like our own police."

"But we don't get a kick out of pain." Lucas stood up and walked over to the girls, releasing Liz's arm as he did. He put a fatherly hand on Heather's shoulder and looked at her with real concern. "I'm sorry that the only stories you've heard of us are bad ones, Heather. While it is a difficult life to lead and the secret of our existence is a heavy burden, our only real goal is to live in harmony with the rest of the world. People don't know we exist because we can live in harmony that way. It's the reason for everything- the Sazi council, where we set down laws so we don't impact humanity, to Wolven and even individual groups that are ruled by leaders we select. It's the promise we've made to our people and we've stood by it since the dawn of civilization."

Liz had her head c.o.c.ked and was listening closely. I could also see her nostrils flare as her animal took the measure of him. Whether or not she realized it. "You're not kidding. That really is what you want."

Then she shook her head. "But you're only one man. Who's to say that's what all your people want?"

s.p.u.n.ky . . . and sharp. Good combination. He ought to snap her up before someone else does. "Lucas here is the head of Wolven, the law-enforcement branch. But until he took over the post, he was the councilman for the wolves-the top dog, so to speak. He may not be able to tell you what every person in every species wants, but he's fully capable of making them keep the promise. The kind of power he's got is legendary. He says jump, we ask how high-snakes, cats, bears, birds. And wolves, of course. All of us." Well, most of us do, and even I know it's not a very bright idea to flat refuse him something. She looked at me curiously, not quite sure what to make of what I said. "Think of your having even met him in your lifetime as being sort of like meeting J. Edgar Hoover while investigating a local crime scene back in the fifties. It could happen, but it's d.a.m.ned rare."

He shrugged it off modestly, even though I knew why he came. Still, his scent didn't betray anything other than the baking-bread scent of concern. "I was in the neighborhood. Joe's right, though. What I say, goes, so long as it's within the rules the council has set down. And one of the rules is that we keep new turns, and those around them, safe. The storm kept you occupied last month on your first turn, Liz. But what about this month? Are you willing to risk your family, or your friend here, if something went wrong? It's high stakes. You're gambling with their lives until you're better equipped to handle the change."

I didn't get a chance to hear her answer because all of a sudden the vault door in my mind slammed open, throwing me to my knees with either a grunt or a scream. Hard to say which, but with my luck, I was probably screaming like a little girl. I can't remember if I grabbed my head and pressed or if it was the magic that made it feel like it was locked in an ever-tightening vise. I must be locked in Sue's head, rather than Ahmad's, because everything was dark and there was an incessant beeping in the background, along with whispered conversation I couldn't make out. My throat hurt, but I couldn't seem to move my mouth to swallow, so I was betting they had in a breathing tube now. It's not a good thing when they have to do that. Means the body is shutting down, unable to breathe by itself.

To h.e.l.l with Kansas and the new turn. I focused inward, trying to find Sue's mind while I still could. You'd think that was an oxymoron. After all, I was in her mind, so how could I not find it? But not so. I was in her body. Brains are big places when you're looking blindly for where a person in a coma might have hidden themselves to escape the situation. Was she lost in her memories, or trapped in her own pain center, too hurt to focus? It was sort of like searching for a black cat in a dark room. You're looking for small and furry, and near the floor is the likely spot. But not the only one. I tried the likely spots first, near the vault door I was visualizing and near where I could hear voices.

I found a tiny, bright thread huddled near the door-like she'd used everything she had to get it open to find me. Sue?

Knew . . . you'd come. Not too . . . much time now. They're arguing . . . not . . . sure it'll happen in time.

I'll give you whatever time you need, Sue. I'm tough. I'll keep you going as long as you need.

A tiny bit of golden sunrise filled my head and it made me smile. You're . . . sweet. And I know . . . you too well. No good to . . . argue.

d.a.m.ned straight.

Maybe it would help to get her mind off it. How's the remodel of the apartment going? I'd left it totally up to her, since she'd never really gotten to decorate before without having to please someone. I could live with just about anything, so long as she kept my recliner as is. But it was tan, so it would blend.

She knew what I was doing. I could tell, but she played along. Sometimes it takes two to ignore reality in a crisis. Frustrating. The accent wall they painted . . . with the red I showed you . . . mixed wrong. It's . . . a weird mauve-y burgundy, instead of the lipstick color that matches . . . the flowers in the . . . drapes. She was starting to wear out, so I threw some more of my own power into the thread of her mind. Yeah, I knew it was going to probably speed up the process, but it was all I had to keep her mind with me. Lose that, and the body doesn't much matter.

It's okay. We'll just paint over it.

Do . . . favor. 'Kay? Finish it . . . for me. Lelya has design. Even . . . if something- I let out a small growl. Nothing's going to happen to you. I won't let it.

Now a small laugh. n.o.body . . . to shoot . . . this time, Tony.

The thread started to fade away and I panicked. I grabbed it before she could react. Fine. If magic wouldn't work, what about life force instead? I'd had to do this once before-pull from my own body to give to her. It wasn't magic, per se. I just used magic to deliver it. Of course, if I gave her too much, I'd die. But them's the breaks.

The thread brightened just a little but before I could speak, a whispering started. It was faint at first, but then it began to echo and peal like bells in our collective mind. Krhlow plihep . . . krhlow plihep . . . Krhlow plihep! They weren't words in any language I'd ever heard, but they had an immediate effect. The sound wrapped around our collective head, pulling, tugging. Demanding we rise up to meet them.

More noises, but they still weren't words. Rghnl olpnst nbwiq! Hoplez requay. Now I could hear more voices and I could make a few of them out. Amber's soft alto and Ahmad's smooth, but angry baritone. A third female voice was mixed in, but I didn't recognize it.

Blue-tinged fire, the color of an oven pilot light, started to crackle at the edge of my vision as the words were repeated over and over. A chant. Was this the ritual Sue had mentioned?

Her voice was filled with relief. Yes. They've decided. I'd . . . hoped to keep . . . you separate, in case . . . goes wrong. But . . . too late now.

No big deal. We'd deal with it as it came. Sorry. You're stuck with me.

A light laugh that warmed me. I can . . . live with that.

The fire danced and crackled, higher and higher until the blue filled the landscape of our mind, covering it in light and shadow like mist over a moonlit English moor. Now more colors joined the blue in tiny pinpoints, blinking, sparkling, twirling. It was a Hubble photo, or the Aurora Borealis.

I've never seen the Aurora. Have you been to Alaska?

Sue's voice was stronger, drowning out the voices in the background. The abrupt change startled me. She sounded almost normal and the lift it gave me was astounding. Go ritual! Yeah. When I was eleven. My dad took me on a cruise up there. Said I could still be amazed, and it would be too soon that nothing would, so he wanted to let me have a few memories of awe. It was a pretty amazing year. We did the Grand Canyon, Old Faithful, and Mount Rushmore and then to Alaska before we set sail for China and a grand tour of Europe. Missed a whole year of school for it, and had to make it up the next summer. But it was worth it. We bonded at a time when I was still angry I was an orphan. Mom had only died a couple of years before and I'd just found out that Dad wasn't my real father. It was a rough time. Later I realized getting tight with him was more the plan than being awed. He was a pretty bright guy.

Long diatribe, and pretty useless information. But it was keeping her entertained. Her smile added a bright glow of orange and yellow to the landscape. He sounds like a good dad. I wish I could meet him sometime. I had a good dad too. I miss him.

Yeah, it'd be good to see him again. Except we're both dead.

I immediately winced, considering the circ.u.mstances. It wasn't how I meant it to come out, even though it was the truth. To the rest of the world, Tony Giodone and Suzi Quentin were dead-killed in a rival mob ma.s.sacre at an airport a year ago.

Right now I feel alive! Like I could do anything.

It was the truth. Energy seemed to be swirling all around us in a heady rush that was like the adrenaline high of winning a race. We could probably figure out a way with Carmine's help.

Ooo! And we could see Linda and Babs again. I haven't talked to them in forever. I don't even know if Babs had the baby. It's been so busy and then . . . well, this happened and I sort of withdrew.

I'd noticed. She'd always struggled with depression, which is why I suggested the decorating. It worked for a while, but I didn't realize there was an underlying cause of her anxiety. Stupid. I know better than that. I should have dug when I'd first realized it.

"What in the h.e.l.l is going on up there? Tony's had some sort of collapse. He's mumbling Sue's name and he's bleeding from his mouth." It was Lucas's voice I heard and for a brief moment, I could see the inside of the living room, from the bottom up, and in black-and-white. Lucas had a cell phone to his ear, while the girls were helping Paul from the room. Apparently, I'd gone wolf at some point. I always see in monotones after I've shifted. I didn't like that I was bleeding, but there wasn't much I could do about it. I didn't really feel any pain, so I couldn't imagine it was too serious. Or, it was really serious and I'd completely left my body and was trapped inside Sue's head.

The living room faded to black and the beeping started again. I could hear a reply from Sue's right, so he must have called the clinic. But I didn't recognize the voice. It was female, though. It must be one of the nurses. "This is Sarah. They've started a ritual, Alpha. One of the ones from the book of Dr. Wingate's sister, Aspen Monier. The human woman was dying, and-"

Lucas growled, low and deep, and his voice held not only anger, but fear. "Who authorized that? There aren't enough people there to approve such a risky venture. We don't have any idea what could happen."

The woman's voice turned tremulous. "I . . . I'm sorry, Alpha. I don't know anything other than what I was told. Dr. Wingate, Councilman al-Narmer and Holly Sanchez are in there now. The door's locked, so I can't ask."

"What in the h.e.l.l is Holly Sanchez doing there? She's just a child."

Now the woman's voice turned from afraid to matter-of-fact. "She's twenty-seven and she's turning into a really good healer. She's all we've have since June, when we lost all our doctors here. I had to take two children to the emergency room in Boulder in May to set broken limbs because we didn't have anyone to treat them. All I could do was pray that n.o.body did blood work or called Social Services." She paused when Lucas started to growl again. "They didn't. Between their parents and me, we convinced them the kids were playing in a tree and fell. It explained the scratches and bruises from their dominance fight. I'm sorry, Alpha, but I'm doing the best I can." The tremors were back in her voice again, but they were from anger, not fear. "We've called and called, but n.o.body's listened. The clinic has gone from a staff of six to me in a year and n.o.body has bothered to check on us. And I'm only an R.N. with no healing magic. What did you expect to happen?"

His reply was interrupted by an angry hissing sound, so I couldn't make it out. Something was happening and it didn't sound good. The noise finally drowned Lucas out entirely and I could sense Sue's fear. It was hard not to, since I was sharing it. I didn't have any warm fuzzies about the situation either.

Tony?

I hear it too. Ignore it and talk to me. No sense in getting worried. Might be a normal part of the ritual. Tell me about the Chicago pack. How are Yurgi and Pam?

They're-She paused and I could tell she was listening to the noise, which was getting louder, seeming to come from above. It wasn't the sound of a snake. I've heard them. This sounded like bacon sizzling in oil. Hot enough to burn. They're good. She seemed to get her feet under her, so to speak, and was able to continue on like the hissing wasn't growing like an approaching storm. They finally found a house they both like. It wasn't easy. Pam wanted a big kitchen and two bathrooms for when they have kids, and Yurgi insisted on a real backyard, with a patio big enough to hold barbeques. He's seen them on television and has always wanted to have one. Those are hard to come by in the price range they could afford.

I couldn't help but chuckle. Yurgi Kroutikhin was a Russian immigrant, exiled from his former wolf pack in Siberia and sent to live in America with our pack leader, Nikoli, as the omega-lowest wolf. Yurgi wound up saving the pack leader's life and Nikoli decided to reward his sacrifice by helping him buy a house-the second biggest thing to Yurgi you could imagine. The first biggest thing is having kids. Apparently, in the Siberia pack, he wouldn't be allowed to breed. Nikoli doesn't care and, in fact, thinks kids keep the pack strong.

They're the closest things to friends that Sue and I have in Chicago. Yurgi thinks I'm a G.o.d in wolf form, because I keep the others from picking on him too much.

They decided-ow! I flinched too as a small stinging sensation came from somewhere on our left side. It wasn't an arm or shoulder. It was inside our mind. Then another one made me wince and suddenly it was raining little sparkling bits of color like meteorites. Everywhere they landed they stuck and burned. At first it just made you yip, but after a few seconds it started to feel like a hailstorm pounding on our collective mind, except with bits of lava. There was nowhere to hide and no way to stop whatever was happening. All we could do was yelp and finally scream.

Fire filled the landscape of our mind. Pain erupted from places I didn't know could feel pain until our entire reality was never-ending pinp.r.i.c.ks of searing heat-death by a thousand cuts. If the ritual was supposed to be helping, it wasn't. I fought back with the only thing I had, my Sazi magic. I raised a shield, pulling on what little I could feel of my body. In the process, I realized that Ahmad was still somehow attached to me. Whether or not he was aware of it really didn't matter to me. What mattered was that there was extra energy in my head and if I could harness it, I could keep the fire from burning us up.

Borrowing someone's magic for your own use isn't like grabbing a rope out of your neighbor's garage. It's more like asking to borrow their hand, taking it off their body, and then expecting it to grab something at your command. Sure, with the right stimulus at the right nerve endings, it can. But you have to know what you're doing.

I didn't.

But Sue's screams had turned to whimpering and it made me crazy. That's a weird thing about wolves. We literally can't stand to sense our mates in pain.

I reached out and grabbed that black-red stream of the snake king's power, not even caring that it would be like touching a high-tension electric wire. The tiny bits of pain became one ma.s.sive wave that drove me right to the edge of sanity. But slowly, as though d.o.g.g.i.ng the head of a charging bull with sheer brute force, I turned Ahmad's energy until it was not only connected to me in Kansas, but Sue in Boulder. Or maybe it was vice versa. An immediate change in our collective head happened. The mist on the ground turned red and an odd scent rolled across my nose . . . or was it Sue's nose? It smelled of nuts but sweet-heavy yet somehow delicate. Most importantly, though, the bits of fire fell into the red mist and dissolved. No more pain.

I had no idea what Ahmad might do to me once he figured out that I was stealing magic from him. But I didn't figure it would be good or pleasant.

You hanging in there?

The pause was too long. forcing me to ask again. Sue? Are you okay?

Her voice sounded a little . . . odd, but seemed okay overall. I've been trying to decide. But yeah, I think I'm okay. I feel a little strange, but strange is better than bad.

"Sue, we've finished the ritual." It was Amber's voice and it wasn't echoing like she was intruding on Sue's mind. We were hearing it with ears. "I'm going to give you an injection-try to bring you out of this coma. But I'm going to need your help, so really concentrate on waking up. Okay?"

What the h.e.l.l? How do you concentrate on waking up? I hate it when doctors say bulls.h.i.t stuff like that.

Sue chuckled. It means the alarm just went off and I can either hit the snooze or drag myself out of bed. I think it'll work better if you go back to your body and I wake up to see if the ritual did what it was supposed to.

What exactly was it supposed to do? Was it some sort of healing chant, like shaman stuff?

I could feel her shoulders wiggle a little as she tried to describe it. Not precisely. The goal was to bind me with magic. Make me something . . . different. Not a shifter like you, but not entirely human either. If it worked, being your mate won't hurt me anymore. I'll have magical blood.