Harvest Moon

by C. L. Bevill

  “You should let her go,” Emma said forcefully.

  Martinez chuckled. One hand left Sage’s shoulder and brushed across her cheek; it was the same cheek that was bruised. “Such a sweet, young thing. Perhaps I’ll keep her.”

  Emma smiled coldly. When Sage was freed from this were, Emma was going to make her take as many self-defense classes as she could shove down the younger woman’s throat. “I’m going to shove my knife into your brain,” she said, matter-of-factly. “Then I’m going to twist the blade until your brains are like a bowl of oatmeal.”

  Sage’s frightened eyes stared at Emma.

  Martinez continued to smile. “You don’t have to worry about Sage, Emma Lucia. Yes, I know who you are. The weres we’ve spoken with have been very forthcoming about the Cat Clan of Colorado. It was easy enough to set up a scenario to trap a few of you. The hardest part was finding a human we thought would survive the transition.” His hand stroked Sage’s cheek again. “Pity we only got you. Somehow I don’t believe my buyers will be disappointed, however.”

  Emma checked her peripheral vision again. No one was close enough to do her any damage, even with a gun. Clearly, Martinez wanted them alive for an unknown purpose.

  Sage’s eyes flickered left. Then did it again quickly, trying to warn Emma.

  Turning slightly, Emma saw a man about fifty yards away dressed in tactical gear. He was a human expecting an animal attack. He held a rifle in his arms. Very precisely he brought it up and bore down on Emma’s figure. She wasn’t impressed. Dodging his shot wouldn’t be difficult. “Going to shoot me in the back, Martinez?”

  “Of course not,” Martinez said. “No one wants to damage you. Not right now, anyway. The fiercest fighter in the Rockies..a little ocelot. I’ve seen your kind before in South America. There was a small clan in Belize. The most ferocious warriors I’ve ever met. A pity they don’t exist anymore.”

  Another man stepped out from the opposite side of the clearing. He held another rifle.

  Emma was running out of choices. She wasn’t going to be able to dodge all of them. She reached up and tapped the Bluetooth that was still behind her ear. There was a buzzing that indicated she’d gotten a connection. The phone automatically dialed the last number she’d called, which was the compound.

  Someone answered the line with, “Clan Industries.” Emma thought it was Ulric, a Eurasian Lynx were, from the Baltics. He was one of the few weres almost her size in feline form.

  “Why exactly do you want to kidnap weres?” Emma said loudly.

  “What?” Ulric said.

  Martinez grimaced. “She’s made a phone call, estupido. Take her down.”

  There was a soft puff of sound and something dug itself into her side. Emma glanced down and saw a feathered dart sticking out of her waistline. The sharpened end had gone through the material of her shirt. There was another puffing noise and another one hit her shoulder on the opposite side. Based on what Martinez had said, she hadn’t expected them to shoot her at all. Emma brushed the darts off even while Ulric said, “Emma? Where are you? Wheeler’s looking for you.”

  “Cherry Creek Park,” Emma said. She brought her knives up in an offensive pose and said to Martinez, “Better had been enough to take down an elephant.” Although the words were defiant, she could already feel her senses being numbed by the absorption of the chemical.

  The Hispanic were shrugged. He patted Sage on the shoulder. Sage shuddered helplessly. “Ketamine. It’s an animal tranquilizer. It’s been tested on weres before.”

  “Did you hear that, Ulric?” Emma said.

  A human approached her flank and Emma twirled, kicking him in the face. He went down like a bag of rocks. She thought that she had broken his neck in the process. She brought herself into a defensive position and waited for someone else to make a mistake.

  There was another puff of air and a stinging in her upper shoulder. Martinez cursed fluently while Sage gasped loudly. “You’ll kill her with that poison if you dart her again,” he snarled at someone.

  “Martinez,” Emma said sincerely, loud enough for the Bluetooth. “I’ll remember your face. Right before I tear it into little shreds.” Everything was getting a little fuzzy.

  “Emma,” Ulric said urgently. “Wheeler is on the way. Just keep fighting it!”

  Finally, the big Baltic Lynx got the picture. Well, whoopee.

  Someone came up on her right and Emma sliced while swinging her foot around. Her foot connected solidly with the man’s legs just as she sliced through his throat. She bounced back to the front to face Martinez. The edges of the world were getting diluted.

  Martinez had shoved Sage into the arms of another human in tactical gear. Sage was struggling frantically but didn’t know how to use her superior strength to her advantage. The large Hispanic were charged Emma from the front. She swiped with one knife while stabbing with the other. Hearing flesh rip, she was briefly elated until she realized that she had overbalanced and was falling onto the ground.

  Something hit her back with a hair-raising growl and the knives were ruthlessly knocked away from her hands. It’s okay, she thought, trying to buck the person off. I’ve got more.

  Martinez leaned down and plucked the Bluetooth from her ear. It was crushed in his fist a second later. Then he whispered in her ear. “Sorry, Little Ocelot. It’s nothing personal. Just business.”

  Emma tried to say something bitchy but the words went away along with her awareness.

  Chapter Three

  Let sleeping cats lie. – A French Proverb

  The park was empty.

  There was a dead Forest Service employee in a service building fifty feet away from the empty entry booth. He’d been shot in the head. Emma’s Jeep Wrangler was parked next to a worn Toyota Corolla. The doors on both vehicles were locked. The keys were absent. Emma was missing.

  Killian was patrolling the area in his cougar form. The Irishman had an American mother who was a were but had been raised in Dublin. His father had been a wildcat were and Killian had inherited the cougar genes. His sinuous form was winding its way among the picnic tables and systematically searching the brush.

  Wheeler didn’t care much about that at the moment. Rage was burning a hole in his gut as he thought about the recorded call that Ulric had played back for him. Someone named Martinez had used an animal tranquilizer on Emma, someone who knew about weres, someone who Emma was very angry with. She said she would shred his face to ribbons. Emma didn’t make idle threats.

  But Emma would only get to shred Martinez’s face if she beat Wheeler to him. And considering the way that Wheeler was feeling at the moment Martinez’s odds of survival were slim to none.

  Donovan Lawton came up to Wheeler’s side. Donovan was a jaguar were in the Clan. He was one of Wheeler’s Elite Cat Warriors. His mate, Isabella, stood beside him. Both of their faces were twisted with concern. “Two more bodies about 100 yards toward the beach,” Donovan said. “Humans. Dressed in military flak gear. Nothing special about the gear. No identification. One has a broken neck. The other’s neck was slashed and he bled out.”

  Wheeler gripped the door of Emma’s Jeep with his hand. The door’s handle began to compress. The metal screamed.

  “There’s more,” Donovan said and he stepped back, shooing Isabella back further. He held out two of Emma’s knives. Both were bloodied. “I can scent a were, as well. Not a dog. Maybe a cougar. Two distinct scents besides Emma’s. Perhaps one of them was Sage Ingram.”

  The door’s handle compressed some more. Isabella’s eyes got wide and she took another step backwards. So did Donovan.

  The question that followed was guttural. “Sage is the female were who Emma was trying to get to join us? The contact she mentioned?” Wheeler was fighting for control of the beast inside him. He wanted to rip and tear and destroy. He wanted to decimate anything that had dared touch Emma’s soft, fragrant flesh.

  Donovan nodded. He looked down at the proffered knives and took a breath.
“We’ll track her down. I could hear a clear gasp from a female on the recording. It wasn’t Emma. It was probably Sage. She was attacked by a cougar in the mountains. None of the Clan has owned up to it but Emma thought that it was probably a rogue who had already moved on.”

  “A trap?” Wheeler thought of the intel that Killian had discussed. Missing weres in New York. Some were female. And now Emma was gone. She had left two of her knives or perhaps they had been knocked from her unconscious hands. His gold eyes shifted toward the knives in Donovan’s hands. Emma had at least six knives on her at any time. They were German-made steel; they were some of the best blades that money could buy. Wheeler had one in his belt. There were two more. Does she have the other three? Would Emma be able to protect herself from being attacked?

  His vision shifted as he began to lose part of his control. His eyes had gone cat and Donovan looked away before a challenge could be initiated.

  Donovan nodded mostly to himself. “I’ll start calling the other alphas. Perhaps we can get a lead on who’s trying to collect feline weres.”

  Isabella said, “We can trace these dead men as well. Fingerprints, DNA, records. They can’t hide what they’ve left behind.”

  Wheeler carefully and precisely took the knives from Donovan. He stuck them in with the other one that Emma had behind in the gym at the compound. He would give them back to her in person. His voice was still hoarse as he spoke, “Do it. Do whatever you think you need to do. Find Sage Ingram or her roommates or her family and see who she’s been speaking with. Check her phone records. Pay someone off to get the details. Find out who’s been asking about weres in the city. Find out what the New York clan is saying about their missing weres.”

  Isabella was already working on her cellular phone. It was a specialized model and highly secure. She was rapidly tracking down information in the manner of a former expert librarian.

  Donovan hesitated by Wheeler. “You should change, Wheeler,” he said gravely. “It’ll disperse some of that rage.”

  “I won’t do her any good in were form!” Wheeler bellowed at him.

  The various members of the team froze around them. Even Killian stuck his feline head up to see what was happening.

  “With all due respect,” Donovan said, so calmly that his voice was barely above a whisper, “you’re about to explode and there are several lesser weres around who’ll suffer the consequences. I won’t allow you to touch Isabella.”

  Wheeler suddenly took the Jeep’s door with both hands and ripped it off. He threw it away and they all heard it land in the lake a few seconds later. The lake was about a football field’s length away.

  “Isabella,” Donovan said in a low voice, “leave us now.”

  Isabella cast a single disbelieving look at her mate and shrugged. “I’ll go to Sage’s apartment. I’ve got her address. It’s near here. I’ll take some of the cats with me, okay?” She went so quickly she was almost running.

  Donovan said, “Can’t help Emma if you’re lost in your secondary form. You’ll hurt people. Good people. Good weres who only want to help get her back.”

  Wheeler snarled at him. “I know, goddamnit. But it’s…her.”

  The term ‘her’ meant Emma and Donovan knew it. Half the Clan knew about Wheeler’s interest in his Second. Emma had always been skittish about relationships but she hadn’t noticed that the males tended to shy away from befriending her. It was because they knew that Wheeler would probably tear their heads off if they made a pass at the petite woman.

  Wheeler abruptly knelt and ripped his clothes away. He left the pile with Emma’s knives lying on top. The change rippled across him. His body elongated and fur began to sprout. Bones creaked in protest. From somewhere inside him the magic that was shapeshifter made him into a large lion. The resulting Panthera Leo was a massive specimen weighing more than 500 pounds.

  Shapeshifters wondered how the change really worked. How did a man of two hundred twenty pounds transform into something twice his weight? Conversely how did a hundred and ten pound woman transmute into a thirty-five pound ocelot?

  Wheeler’s pie plate-sized paws tread over the ground. Pacing back and forth over the parking lot, he sniffed and could clearly scent Emma. The air was fairly dry. The wind wasn’t blowing and nightfall was obscuring those who would see what they were doing. Several members of his team were keeping people from entering the park. He knew that he didn’t have a lot of time before some offended soul would call the local police. There was only so much that Clan Industries’ reputation would smooth over.

  There was a raucous cough from the brush ahead of him. Donovan trailed behind him, still in human form. Killian was showing him the location where Emma had been attacked. Wheeler snarled viciously. She hadn’t been afraid until the point of a dart had pierced her.

  Fierce little Emma had fought until the end. But there was none of her blood that could be found.

  Wheeler smelled the location where two weres had stood. There was more fear there. It came from the female cat. Sage Ingram had been afraid.

  Tracing their footprints, Wheeler found four more human’s paths. They had carried Emma away. They had taken Sage, as well. The newly-made were had fought viciously. She had bitten them and left blood for Wheeler to discover. The mysterious were named Martinez had gone along as well. There had been two SUVs parked in another lot located further along the park.

  He frightened a prowling coyote that scampered away back into the depths of the park’s forest. There was a distant yell from someone in a boat on the lake. Someone had spotted his massive body. Wheeler wasn’t interested.

  Emma was gone. So were the men and the were who had taken her.

  That was all that mattered.

  Wheeler roared with concerted fury.

  •

  Emma woke up when they sprayed water over her body. She wasn’t exactly feeling her Sunday best. The water was cold and she had a headache. One of her shoulders was aching as if she had bumped it. She lifted a hand and held it in front of her face to deflect the spray.

  Someone said over the sound of the running water, “Look, the new girl’s awake.”

  The water shifted away from her and went to one side.

  She opened her eyes and saw that she was inside a cage. It was a large animal cage with wire covering the sides and top. She glanced down and saw that she was still dressed in the same clothes she’d been wearing. Her shoes were gone. Carefully she looked around and saw rows of other cages. They were made of some kind of thick wire and contained a number of other women with varied expressions of dismay and anger. Emma didn’t need to use her nose to tell that they were other weres. Most of them were feline. One was a wolf. Another was something else, perhaps a bird were. Bird weres were rare and the woman looked as ethereal as a bird herself. She also looked very pissed off.

  The attendant shut the water off and paused in front of her cage. The man was human and looked as if he had better places to be. “Listen up, girly,” he said nonchalantly to Emma, as if he recited the same words every hour, “the rules are that if you try to escape you’ll be whipped with silver. The second time two other weres will die for you. The third time you’ll get a silver bullet in your brainpan.”

  Carefully crouching in the cage, Emma glared at the man. “What’s the rule if I disembowel you?” she asked, almost politely.

  The man stared at her. He struck the cage with a baton and Emma didn’t flinch. She stared back at him and memorized his face.

  “I’ll remember you,” she said softly. For that moment it didn’t matter if there was a cage between them or not. The ocelot in her was going to have her retribution.

  The man left the room with alacrity.

  The woman in the next cage said, “My name is Marielle. I’m from the New York Clan. You’ve been here nearly twenty-four hours. That bastard cougar who’s helping this group kidnap our kind brought you in and had a doc check you out. I heard them say they gave you too much of the animal trank. Loo
ks like the were DNA is taking care of it, now.”

  Emma turned around in the too small cage. She couldn’t stand up inside it and if she reached her arms out she would touch both sides. There was a bucket in the back for obvious purposes and a bottle of water sitting near the front. She ignored both and went to put her hands on the front of the cage.

  The were named Marielle said, “Don’t-”

  Hissing, Emma yanked her hands back. They were crisscrossed with the pattern of the wires. She placed her head close to the wires and saw that they had been coated with silver. “Silver plated,” she said. Duh, Captain Obvious.

  “And the wire is too thick to bite through,” Marielle said regretfully. She rubbed at the corners of her mouth. There were marks there that showed that she had tried that maneuver.

  Emma took a breath. She looked at all the other weres. There were twelve of them. Most of them were cats. She didn’t know them, but there were many clans across the world. Sage Ingram wasn’t one of the weres in the cage.

  “Was there another girl with me?” Emma asked.

  “It was just you,” another were said. She was sitting in her cage across from Emma and Marielle, watching them carefully. Emma could smell the wolf in her. Her pale blue eyes were as far from being human as they could be without a complete transformation. “I could smell another feline female on the were called Martinez. She smelled very…fearful.”

  “You’re a wolf shifter,” Emma said without rancor. She knew that they groups often referred to themselves in that manner. The term ‘werewolf’ was considered derogatory. “Where are you from?”

  “Canada,” the woman said. Her blue eyes glittered. “They took me and one other from the northern forests of Manitoba.”

  Emma knew that the woman was the solitary wolf in the room. “Where’s your den mate?”

  “My sister,” the wolf said and the eyes gleamed predatorily, “they took her last week. She didn’t come back and they won’t tell me anything.”