Healer's Choice

by Jory Strong

  Her gift manifested in the same way it had when she healed Aryck, in a taking, as if she was nothing more than a tool, a conduit for a power that burned through her like fire, demanding a price for using it, pain that had her gasping, crying, as it felt as though her skin was being ripped from her body at the same time bones in her chest shattered.

  There was no gentle guiding, no concentrated effort to eradicate infection and repair places where bone and soft tissue had been eaten away, no conscious choice to cover exposed muscle and sinew with skin and fur. But the pain lessened as those things happened. And as the pain diminished she became aware of drums beating, those in the small room seeming to echo elsewhere, in a place beyond her physical ability to hear them.

  The phantom beats faded completely as the end of pain signaled the end of the healing. Exhaustion swept in. Rebekka managed to open her eyes in time to witness the joy on the faces of the cub’s parents as they pulled him in jaguar form onto their laps and held him to them in a hug.

  Tears streamed down the mother’s face. The father swallowed several times and yet his voice was still clogged with emotion when he asked, “Can we take him home?”

  “Yes,” Phaedra said, standing, helping Rebekka to her feet.

  Even with the healer steadying her, Rebekka swayed. She had no sense of how much time had elapsed, only that her clothes clung to her, drenched in sweat.

  It took tremendous effort to take up a position next to another cub. A cup was pressed into her hand. She drank the bitter stimulant, but its effects barely registered this time. When the cup was empty, Rebekka braced herself for the pain to come, then leaned forward, willing herself to somehow find enough strength to heal the remaining cubs.

  Aryck forced himself to stay at Caius’s side as Rebekka was led from pallet to pallet. He kept his back to her, not wanting to see her pain, not wanting to see her exhaustion or the way her shirt clung to her, stirring possessive, protective instincts he was no longer positive belonged solely to the Jaguar.

  He’d wanted to view her as a human using her gift only for the promise of wealth. He’d thought to use her physical weakness when compared to his kind to counter the Jaguar claim of mate. But those defenses had crumbled during their push to arrive in time, and disappeared completely when he’d seen what it cost her to heal. She was no less dedicated than Phaedra.

  Caius’s whimpers signaled greater and greater pain. “Stay with us,” he murmured, afraid the cub’s Earth-bound souls would give up this world and join the eternal one despite Nahuatl’s chants and the beat of the pack’s drums.

  Koren crouched beside Aryck, placing a hand on Caius’s forehead, as if he too felt the cub’s tenuous hold on life and was offering his strength, his will, to the boy’s. Eyelids opened, holding fear and pain, an unspoken plea for release.

  “Fight the call of the ancestors,” Koren said. “The others have been healed, you will be as well.”

  Rebekka joined them, so weak her eyes were barely open as Phaedra helped her take up a position next to Caius. The Jaguar soul rose in Aryck, demanding the human form act, using arms the beast didn’t have to lift Rebekka and take her to the cabin that was also Jaguar den.

  When Aryck refused to act, claws raked through his chest. He ground his teeth together, that and the clenching of his hands into fists the only external sign of the battle being waged inside him.

  A sharp glance from his father made him redouble his efforts to suppress the Jaguar. The Jaguar fought back when Rebekka began the healing with a soft cry of pain, her continuous trembling sending it into a frenzy.

  The only escape was to stand and walk to the other side of the room. Leaving Phaedra’s home would be better. Aryck knew it, and yet he couldn’t force himself through the doorway.

  He concentrated instead on the beat of the drums. Watched from a distance as inch by inch Caius was healed, his skin slowly reappearing to cover exposed muscle and bone until no trace of the destruction was left.

  Rebekka collapsed and Aryck was by her side instantly, lifting her into his arms without it being a conscious decision. Phaedra motioned toward a small room. “Put her on my bed. I will make her comfortable.”

  The Jaguar growled in denial, so loud in Aryck’s mind that when he felt his father’s eyes boring into him he was afraid the sound had escaped. He braced, expecting to hear a sharp mental command along with a private snarl of displeasure and warning.

  Help came from an unexpected source. Nahuatl said, “I made the house behind mine ready for the healer, as the ancestors bid me to do when they showed me her face and gave me her name.”

  Daivat’s house. The son made outcast.

  Aryck’s sweat chilled on his skin. The threat held in the reminder of Daivat’s fate helped drive the Jaguar’s desires back, caging them in bars of ice, though it didn’t force the two Earth-bound souls into a harmonious weave.

  “Take her there,” Koren said. And come to my home immediately afterward. “Phaedra will accompany you so she can make the healer comfortable.”

  Aryck didn’t dare respond mentally for fear the Jaguar would choose that moment to issue a challenge. He gave a slight nod, accepting his father’s spoken command as well as the one sent privately.

  He left with Rebekka in his arms. Phaedra joined him, carrying a basin and a soft rag.

  Daivat’s home was similar to his own. One room with a large bed made of piled woven blankets and bison pelts, a place used more to experience the sensual pleasures that came with coupling in human form than to sleep in.

  The Jaguar’s growl rumbled through Aryck as he placed Rebekka on the bedding. There would have been a fight for dominance had the blankets and pelts smelled of another male. But Nahuatl had seen to them. They smelled of sunshine and rye grass.

  Phaedra set the basin down after filling it with water from a bucket left ready. “I’ll tend her now,” she said, her hands going to the front of Rebekka’s shirt, efficiently undoing the first several buttons.

  Aryck couldn’t look away as the material of the shirt parted in a small revelation of flesh. The sight of it was enough to make his cock harden, and in his mind he continued freeing the buttons, peeling the sweat-soaked fabric away and stripping Rebekka of it completely so his hands could take over the task of bathing her, turning it from impersonal service to sensual exploration.

  Phaedra glanced up then, spearing him with knowing eyes. He turned and left, as much to keep from exposing the battle he was waging with himself as to avoid her ordering him to go.

  Outside a flash of red drew his eye to a cardinal taking flight. He smiled at seeing it. The bright color of its feathers reminded him of the beads on Rebekka’s necklace.

  The amulet was a barely discernable weight in his pocket, yet the satisfaction that purred through him with the feel of it there was immense.

  The Jaguar’s—at having something of hers while they were separated, at having a reason to return to her side as soon as possible.

  The man’s—at having been entrusted with the necklace in the first place.

  Aryck took the first step toward the alpha’s home. Reluctant in a way he hadn’t experienced since he was a child summoned for a misdeed.

  The smell of cooking meat greeted him. Pork, Aryck thought, following the scent of it to the fire pit in back of the cabin.

  His stomach rumbled and his mouth watered, both reminding him of how long he’d gone without food. Koren gestured to a log carved vaguely into the shape of a chair. “Sit.”

  It wasn’t quite a command and yet it wasn’t an invitation either. Aryck sat as his father turned a slab of meat over on a salvaged piece of metal grate.

  Grease hit the fire underneath and sizzled. Hunger pangs, a much less painful version of the Jaguar’s clawed insistence, raked through Aryck’s belly.

  “The healer?” Koren asked.

  Aryck tensed despite himself, silently cursed at reacting when he realized his father had been surreptitiously watching for it. “She sleeps. Pha
edra bathes her.”

  He put indifference into his voice, though heat throbbed through his cock as he imagined Rebekka naked on the furs, her eyes beckoning him to join her. Her body a temptation he couldn’t resist when she rolled to her hands and knees, calling him to her with a sultry glance over her shoulder.

  Aryck nearly rose to pace. Would have if not for his father.

  This time there was no mistaking the origin of desire. The fantasy of Rebekka wanting him to cover her wasn’t an image forced on him by the Jaguar.

  Koren prodded the meat, letting the silence build between them. Aryck clenched his jaw to keep from filling the space between them with words, grateful his father intended to hold this conversation orally instead of mentally, where suppressing the Jaguar might become impossible.

  Koren transferred slabs of pork to metal plates, handing one of them, along with a knife and fork, to Aryck. They ate, the silence continuing, moving into a comfortable lull until all the meat had disappeared and the plates were set aside.

  “The healer is not what I expected,” Koren finally said, leaning forward and placing his forearms on his thighs in a relaxed pose, though the air between them was laced with edges. “For all her human frailty there is strength at her core.”

  Aryck acknowledged the comment with a shrug, as if neither the strength nor the weakness mattered to him. By the narrowing of his father’s eyes, he knew it was the wrong gesture to make.

  Koren stood, abruptly shedding the feign of casualness. He paced, as Aryck had wanted to earlier. Ten steps forward, then back again to reclaim his seat and shock Aryck by saying, “She reminds me of your mother.”

  Their eyes met. His father’s expression hardened. “I understand the attraction of a female who needs a strong male to keep her safe. Your mother preferred the human form but even when she wore fur, she was no fighter. Her nature was too gentle. If she’d been pure animal instead of Were, she would never have survived to breeding age.”

  He rose again. Paced. Ten steps forward, then back to his seat.

  “I knew I should stay away from her. I knew she was not the right mate for an alpha. But dominance is bred into our line and submission attracts us. One coupling and no other female could hold my interest.”

  His shrug mimicked Aryck’s earlier one, as if the past wasn’t unimportant. But the seriousness in his voice and the fact he’d never taken another mate gave lie to it.

  “In the end my lack of control and my choice cost me. The man might desire a soft mate, but the Jaguar needs a strong one, an equal in both will and form.”

  Aryck nearly laughed at his father’s erroneous assumption. But he had no desire to reveal the battle that had raged since the Jaguar encountered Rebekka.

  The silence descended once again. It grew heavier when Aryck didn’t rush to reassure his father that he understood the warning and planned to stay away from the healer.

  Koren’s eyes darkened and his mouth firmed. Aryck braced himself for the strike of his father’s verbal claws. “As soon as the cubs have successfully shifted between forms, and the healer has rested and eaten, I will assign others to escort her to the Lion camp so she can return to Oakland and the outcast brothels.”

  The Jaguar screamed denial, animal soul unraveling into a nearly separate entity and trying to take its true shape in order to offer a direct challenge to the alpha. Aryck turned his head quickly, hoping his father hadn’t seen the beast looking through human eyes.

  He wrestled to remain in control, a small part of his rational mind welcoming his father’s plan. If he could hold out until she was gone, then the threat she represented would lessen immediately and, over time, fade completely.

  His earlier fantasy flashed through his mind, of her naked and welcoming him. He pushed it away. Another female, a Jaguar, would come along and—

  Searing pain raked through him, the kind preceding a change of form.

  His father rose and shed his clothes in preparation for shifting.

  It was enough warning for Aryck to accept a truth he still didn’t want. It wasn’t just the Jaguar who saw Rebekka as a potential mate, who needed to spend time in her company. “I promised to personally see to her protection while she was on our lands.”

  The words settled the Jaguar enough so Aryck dared to look at his father. Koren’s face showed nothing of what he was thinking, but his voice was little more than a growl. “Guard the cabin if you wish, but stay away from her until she wakes.”

  Caphriel’s Pawn

  RADEK rolled off the prostitute and stared at the ceiling as she slid the used condom off his semiflaccid cock. He spared her a glance as she padded naked across the room to drop it into a twisted piece of salvaged metal serving as a trash can.

  The sight of her swaying breasts and round buttocks didn’t hold his interest. His mind raced, and despite the release of sex he could feel the restless tension building in his chest, the uncertainty gnawing at him.

  By now there should have been some evidence the smart-virus he’d poured into the pond was working. There hadn’t been, and because of it irritation sizzled through him.

  His leaving the compound several times a day was drawing too much attention from his brother’s lapdog, Nagy. But he could hardly send men out and order them to look for signs of dead wolves or elk.

  Having to handle this himself was wasting valuable time. Time better spent analyzing the recovered files and determining which of them could be turned into the wealth that was now only part of his nightly dream.

  Radek closed his eyes for a moment, hoping the imagined cheering of the crowds would soothe him. It didn’t. If anything it increased his restlessness, made him feel as though he were in a race against some unseen opponent and victory was far from assured.

  The bed dipped as the whore returned. She took his cock into her mouth.

  Radek kept his eyes closed. He shifted his concentration to the feel of the prostitute’s lips and tongue, hoping to use physical pleasure to recapture the golden glory he experienced in his dreams. It didn’t work.

  His frustration grew, taking on an ugly edge as his penis softened further and the whore released him to ask, “Should I leave now?”

  Radek’s eyes snapped opened. Worthless slut! To imply with her tone that her failure to provide a distraction was somehow his fault and she’d just as soon go service the convicts and dregs of society.

  He rolled off the bed and stalked to his desk, opening a drawer with a jerk. He’d intended to retrieve the bottle of brandy he kept there, to soothe himself with a glass of it, but the sight of the canister with the picture of a hyena scratched into its surface turned frustration and irritation into giddy exhilaration.

  Epiphany struck, explaining his uncharacteristic desire for one of the camp whores. He turned slightly, eyes flicking to the prostitute’s tattoo, the garish black circle with a red P in its center.

  He’d nearly sent her away when he saw it, not wanting to think about the terrorist-created disease that had led to prostitutes being marked during The Last War. He was glad now he hadn’t. It had given birth to divine inspiration, a call to action that replaced his worries of failure.

  There were hyenas nearby. Their whooping calls and laughs made the hair rise on his arms each time he heard them.

  Radek smiled as a plan took form. He could hardly ask someone to deliver the carcass of a goat or cow to a hyena’s den, but the corpse of a whore was a different matter.

  He knew just the man to do what needed to be done. One who frequented the red zone brothels and had more than once been required to pay for extensive damages to the prostitutes there.

  A comment to Gregor, something to the effect that this particular whore was a spy and he, Radek, wouldn’t mind paying the penalty if she disappeared while he held her contract. Another, about hyenas leaving no trace of their prey—

  Delicious. Too bad he couldn’t invite Captain Orst to his quarters for a drink. Now there was a whore of a totally different kind, a true s
py, though Radek doubted he’d ever be able to prove the guardsman was owned by the Iberás.

  Radek suppressed a giggle as he imagined Orst meeting with an unfortunate accident and becoming a feast for hyenas, animals that would spread the smart-virus to Weres of the same form. If only—

  First things first, Radek thought, interrupting his fantasy and pouring two glasses of brandy, filling one to the top and the other halfway.

  If he’d truly thought ahead, he would have diluted the contents of the canister, but . . . He shrugged it off. Inspiration had struck when he was in the perfect position to act on it.

  Careful to keep his back to the bed and the waiting prostitute, he matched the level of liquid in the second glass by adding the concentrated solution of smart-virus.

  The whore was sitting at the edge of the bed when he closed the drawer and turned. Boredom changed to interest at the sight of the two glasses in his hand.

  Radek nearly laughed when she licked her lips. “I see I don’t have to ask if you’ll share a drink with me before you leave.”

  She sent him a coquettish look, repositioning herself so she was once again fully on the bed. “I won’t leave at all unless you send me away,” she said, thrusting her chest forward, her fingers playing with a pale pink nipple as she spread her thighs to give him a good look.

  Radek suppressed a shudder, hoping she didn’t notice his cock had softened further at the prospect of intimate contact with a virus-ridden slut.

  She took the glass he offered and tossed it back quickly, as if she hoped doing it would lead to a hasty refill.

  Good. She won’t notice the taste of the concentrate if there is one.

  Her hand slid down to her cunt, playing there as she held out her arm in a silent request for more.

  He tipped his hand, pouring a portion of brandy into her empty glass. Why not? He could afford to be generous.

  Her smile held the promise of a sexual romp he had no intention of participating in. She drew her arm back, raised the drink toward her mouth.