The Midwife's Moon

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The Midwife's Moon Page 11

by Leona J. Bushman


  Ryan must have changed while Joseph had distracted him. He clawed Lance’s arm, creating four deep gouges. They also prevented him from getting ahold of Joseph. “Lisa! Joseph’s headed for the door!”

  Both Moriah and Lisa leapt after Joseph and Lance followed, trying to help them fight Steven, Jason, and the other man. Ryan jumped him from behind. He sensed it a second before Ryan made contact and ducked.

  ***

  Lisa fought hard against the man in front of her. Unfortunately, Joseph managed to get past her and Moriah while they fought off the other men. To her right, she heard a low growl and turned in time to see a wolf, presumably Ryan, leap. She sucked in her breath to warn Lance, but he’d ducked. That put her in the wolf’s path, so she quickly moved, yanking Moriah with her.

  Ryan slammed into the men, and they tangled in a heap of paws and legs. She and Moriah jumped the pile, Lance close behind them. The night, brightly lit by the moon, still held deep shadows. Luckily for them, the white of Joseph’s shirt seemed to glow in the moonlight brighter than the snow on the ground.

  She ran in his direction, determined not to let him escape. He disappeared a second after she started running, but she kept on. “Over here,” she yelled to Moriah and Lance. As she looked back to make sure the others followed, she saw Ryan, back in human form, start out the door. For a moment, her steps stuttered. Why weren’t they running faster? Why had Ryan taken the time to change back to human and get his jeans on?

  Turning, she headed after Joseph, but it nagged at her that the others hadn’t moved faster. That sense, the instinct that had guided her through the guard training, screamed at her to stop. She took two more steps then forced herself to stop. As hard as it was not to stay on Joseph’s trail and exact a little revenge, she had to focus. Why were her instincts hissing at her? Moriah and Lance both stopped at her side.

  “What’s up,” Moriah asked, hardly winded.

  “Why did you stop?” Lance asked her, breathing through his mouth. The cold air misted in front of him.

  He looked more confused than Moriah did. Probably because Moriah had trained her, and they’d worked together.

  It was Moriah who hushed Lance with, “Give her a minute. Something’s nagging at her.”

  That about covered it in Lisa’s estimation. Something she saw niggled at the back of her mind. Rapidly, she processed the information of the evening since arriving at the secluded house. “The table! There is someone else in the house. I saw the keys on the table. It was a motorcycle key and another set.”

  “The motorcycle is mine,” Moriah offered then frowned. “The keys were there when I arrived. I barely had Joseph set up before the others arrived.”

  Lance swore, and Lisa felt her heart beat against her chest. “How are you at hand to hand combat?” she asked him.

  “Not bad, but as you saw, not top of the line. Roxy wouldn’t allow it.”

  Hard as it was, she had to ignore the raw pain she heard behind the stoicism. “Then change now. Moriah and I will stay in human forms as long as we can. If they change, we will. I’ll go after Joseph, you two go after the others.”

  “You’re not in charge, Lisa,” Moriah said.

  “Please,” Lisa begged. For a moment, she’d forgotten that Moriah was the captain, the highest ranked female in the pack, and an officer to boot. “I need to do this. He—” She swallowed her tears.

  “Joseph made her an aswan,” Lance finished for her.

  The look on Moriah’s face gave no clue to how she felt at the news, but she nodded her head yes. Lisa ran in the direction of Joseph. As she ran farther away from Lance, a part of her felt as if she were stretching a too-small elastic band around her. She took a deep breath to force the panic that created down and moved swiftly through the brush and evergreen trees to continue the hunt for Joseph. The farther in she went, the thicker the trees became.

  The noise from branches, old leaves from the bushes, and other wild flora that the snow had missed from the canopy of trees crackled as she moved. He’d hear her coming a mile away at this rate. Quickly, she took off her clothes and left them in a heap then she concentrated on changing. Only one night to the full moon so she hoped it wouldn’t hurt too much.

  She closed her eyes and thought of the moon, of times past, of things she didn’t know or understand that filtered through her mind at every change. Pieces of battles, moments, bygone eras, both personal and historical, careened through her head. In some ways, it could be worse than the actual change.

  Finally, the not quite familiar feeling of her bones popping, her skin and hair seemingly becoming one to form her fur, washed over her and she was werewolf. Her nose to the ground, she followed Joseph’s scent in the snow while flashbacks to the past slammed her mind. Now would be different. She’d catch him, and this time, she wouldn’t be the one trapped.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lance’s emotions were torn as Lisa left after Joseph. Just like the night he’d found her, he wanted desperately to follow her. But he couldn’t leave Moriah to fight Ryan, Jason, and the others alone. Ryan and Jason fought dirty. With his heart going one way and staying in human form for a number of reasons, despite what Lisa had said, he faced the other way—faced Ryan, who had taken Roxy’s lessons of cruelty to heart. He’d flourished under their old lupa’s command.

  Damn it! Lance wanted to kick himself. He just realized he hadn’t given Nolan the proper warning he needed about Ryan and the others like him. He mentally shook himself. If he didn’t pay attention now, he would have no chance at telling the ulfric later for he’d be dead.

  “Does it really take four of you to take on one guard? Especially a woman,” Moriah taunted.

  Lance almost grinned. Seemed she’d picked up on Ryan’s weakness in the few minutes she had with him.

  “No. You’re not worth my time, bitch. I’m taking Joseph out of here. If my friends kill you in the process...” He shrugged.

  Lance laughed, drawing Ryan’s attention to him. “You’re not that big of a fighter. In a fair fight, even Lisa could take you on, despite your brawn. You’re stupid.” Hell, he didn’t know if Lisa could take Ryan, but he did know Ryan would be offended that anyone dared suggest an aswan could beat him—worse because it was a woman. He’d never liked being under Roxy in the hierarchy of things. He’d preferred when the uncle had been in charge and the accompanying status men automatically had.

  Ryan gave him a dirty look that he dismissed. He’d had much worse from Roxy and Boris. “Just for that, I’m going to personally make sure you don’t live to fight another challenge. I can’t believe you won against Joseph. He must have gone soft in the last few months.”

  “Joseph isn’t an alpha. He only pretends he is,” Lance replied.

  “Neither are you, dog,” Ryan spat.

  Lance simply smiled, knowing that would anger Ryan the most.

  “You’re not! Just because you won against that bleeding-ass Joseph, doesn’t mean shit. He’d gone soft. Not enough fighting.”

  “It’s possible, seeing as how he’s from the Wahpawhat pack. But we know that under Roxy, everyone got enough fighting. Including me.”

  For the first time, Ryan looked a little less haughty before his normal confidence came back. “You’re stalling. No matter. No one here will save you, and no one else is coming.”

  “You going to talk us to death,” Moriah said.

  “Dog, you don’t speak to your betters,” Steven said.

  Ryan continued to stare down Lance and barely looked over at the others. Lance’s nerves were stretched thin, more so because he’d rather fight as a wolf. He tensed, getting ready to make the change if need be.

  “You have no say in what happens here, pond scum,” Moriah answered. “You don’t belong on the reservation.”

  Steven howled and attacked Moriah. With punches and some form of martial arts, she fought well. That was all Lance had a chance to see before Ryan attacked him with a vengeance—as if it were all personal to him.r />
  They fought, punching, blocking, back and forth. Only Lance’s quick reflexes kept him from being beaten to a pulp. He made a mental note to have Lisa teach him a few hand-to-hand basic combat maneuvers in the very near feature to go with his street fighting style. Ryan was tough. Lance had a bloody nose, and his forearm hurt from blocking before getting a lucky punch in.

  Ryan’s head whipped back then he turned and gave Lance a malevolent stare. “Why are you doing this, Ryan? What do you get out of it?” Lance asked to buy time. He needed to rest or change into wolf form—or both.

  “Do you really think I want to be in a pack and under the authority of such a wuss as the Wahpawhat Ulfric? He is nothing.” Ryan spat. “Without your help, he never would have been allowed in to challenge our lupa. Yours and that bitch’s help.”

  “Alex? Really? You’re blaming us? If the ulfric is such a wimp, how’d he win against Roxy, whom I presume you don’t see as a wuss?” Lance’s breaths still came in small gasps, but he was ready to fight again.

  “He won because he cheated. Alex wasn’t supposed to be a shifter. Without that surprise, Roxy and Boris would have easily won, and I’d be ulfric now.”

  Of course. Lance felt stupid for not figuring it out sooner. He of all people knew what Ryan’s ambitions had been. Ryan had believed he’d had a chance of pairing with Roxy and being the lupin ulfric.

  He laughed derisively at Ryan. “She wouldn’t have let you touch her with a ten foot lodge pole. You’re too weak, with no talent to make up for it. You were only a foot soldier. Someone to put in the front lines so her and Boris didn’t have to do all the dirty work. Where’s she now? She left rather than face punishment. She’s a coward.”

  He stood in defensive mode, light on his feet, hands tensed, watching Ryan’s every physical nuance, so he saw when Ryan reached behind him, pulled out a gun, and shot him. The move was so unexpected, Lance just held the place where the bullet went in, staring at Ryan. The fighting around them stopped as well.

  Ryan laughed then turned to Moriah. “Get her. We have a rendezvous to keep with Roxy. Let’s go,” he said and maniacally chuckled. “Not you, Lance, sorry. You’re a little down-and-out at the moment.” He sniggered again.

  It felt as if he’d been shot in a lung from the way he had to struggle for every breath, and considering how badly he hurt, the bullet had to be silver. What kind of were uses silver on another were? Well, he knew the answer but fuck. A vice-grip of pain squeezed his chest as he made another attempt to breathe. “Moriah. Lisa.” Weakly he tried to ask Moriah to check on Lisa and fell to his knees in the churned up snow.

  Moriah nodded as the men took her away, Steven holding a gun at her temple. Ryan kicked him again for good measure.

  “Now you know. Don’t mess with me.”

  Ryan walked toward the forest. Steven, Jason, and the other he couldn’t place left as well, dragging Moriah with them. Lance tried to move, but excruciating pain lanced through his lungs. “Lisa,” he croaked. Despite the permanent damage it could cause, Lance shifted.

  His loud cries of agony started out barely human and ended on a howl. The shift had moved the bullet, but he didn’t know enough about his anatomy to know where. Though his body tried to heal, it hurt as if a fresh wound when his were healing abilities should have at least encased the foreign object by now. It confirmed his instinct that he’d been shot with a silver bullet for it still to cause this much havoc. A sickening thing for a werewolf to carry around.

  It also told him Ryan had come prepared to hurt a pack member. Fury helped give him the final push he needed to work through the injuries and move. Lisa. He had to get to Lisa. The two visions he had kept imposing themselves, one then the other, on his sight. And although he ruthlessly squashed them, they came back.

  On he ran, stumbling in the dark whenever the visions came back, but he never wavered from his purpose. Guided by scent, he continued on, only slowing where hers somehow seemed to change. At first, it took precious minutes to find her distinct feminine aroma amid the weird...nothingness his nose attempted to tell him was there. How could there be nothing? She’d just stood in that place. Plus, all the different odors of the forest—the trees, brush, wild animals, insects—all of it, just gone. Who? How? His brain tried to work out the puzzle as he ran. Was this the meaning of the red mist from his visions? All at once, the scents of the forest came blasting back at him and overrode his sense of smell. The intermittent blindness from the visions and the overload on his nose forced him to do what a bullet hadn’t.

  Stop.

  Lose the scent of his mate.

  Be lost.

  A terrible red haze filled his mind and anger blossomed. She should never have left him to chase after another male.

  He shook his head—hard—as if trying to shake water from his fur. Something more sinister than water clung to his mind. Not trusting his physical senses, he followed his heart—his love, his hope. Then he recalled the night he’d first seen her and remembered the feel of his mate’s fur on his arms as he carried her to safety. Thought of the mark setting her apart yet bringing her to the pack, to his world. That spark of optimism which kept him going. With determination, he gave a long howl for help then allowed his feelings to take over. His legs began to move southwest, higher up the cold, dark mountain.

  As he ran, he let the memory of their kiss out on the incongruous property of Waverly Mansion encompass him. The shared laughter. His legs began to move faster, despite his limited vision. Then he remembered her words.

  I won’t leave you. Together.

  The lock on his senses broke, and her scent filled his nostrils—along with fear.

  ***

  Nolan struggled to his feet. “The exile cabin. All of us—except you. Sherona.”

  “You are not in authority over me, Ulfric,” she replied, defiance in the taught lines of her body.

  “No, but I won’t have you risk your young.”

  “Young!” Doctor Waverly exploded.

  Nolan held his head in his hands. “Damn it, Sherona. Why didn’t you tell me he’s the father?”

  “Damn it, Sherona. Why didn’t you tell me I’m a father?” Doctor barked at the same time.

  “You can’t go, Sherona,” Alex said quietly. “Shifting is too dangerous. Remember what I told you when we met?”

  Nolan watched with interest as Sherona’s face underwent a series of change. He didn’t need to be telepathic to know her feelings.

  “I absolutely forbid it,” the doctor chimed in.

  “You have no say either, Tom,” Sherona said, anger throbbing in her low voice.

  Nolan almost laughed at her emphasis of Tom. If it wasn’t for the pain in his head, and the certainty they needed to get out to Heather George’s cabin, he may have let this argument between the apparent lovers continue. But, then, he didn’t have to do anything, for his wife stepped in.

  “Tom! That’s not helping,” Alex admonished. “You’ll only make her dig her claws in about it,” she said then turned to Sherona. “I need you to stay and watch over Marty and Elizabeth, please.”

  Sherona gave in. “I’ll stay, but not because you said so,” she said as she turned a defiant eye onto the doctor. “It makes sense, and someone does need to stay with Marty and Elizabeth.”

  She whirled and stormed off to the patient area. Nolan looked at Doctor Waverly with pity. That would be one hellfire storm of a relationship to iron out.

  “Let’s go,” Alex said and took his arm.

  The air had really dropped. After the unseasonably warm day, it chilled Nolan. Or was that Lance’s feelings crushing through his brain? While the others got in, he pulled out his cell to call in to have back up meet him there. There was no service on his cell. “Damn,” he said softly. Nothing to do but try again later because they had to get to Lance and Lisa and help them.

  “What do you see?” Alex asked after she started the car.

  “Blurred images, snow, red, people... It’s fuzzy—lik
e an out of focus lens. But his emotions...” Nolan pushed air through again in his struggle to keep breathing. “At first, the images were clearer, even if they made no sense, but there’s something else. Something is...interfering.”

  “Interfering?”

  He heard the same concern in Alex’s voice as he felt. “I can’t explain it, but the interference is what’s giving me the pain.”

  It started snowing lightly as they neared the turnoff to the cabin. They’d sat mostly in silence. Nolan rubbed his temples, trying to dissipate some of the pain, Alex drove, and Tom, well... He grinned in the darkness despite his pain. The cats were always a little derisive toward the wolves about the mate issue. It amused him to see Sherona bitten by the bug. Calm, cool, collected Sherona. Queen of the werejaguar pard, and in a battle royale against her feelings, but he didn’t envy poor Tom the task of dealing with her and the politics involved.

  He kept checking his phone, watching for bars, but nothing. No signal. Not that unusual out here, but it remained a concern. He hoped Kamiakin could deal with things. There’d been another report of a sighting of Boris. They’d been coming steadily in since the wanted posters had gone up, and his picture plastered over the news. Supposed sightings of Roxy were far fewer. He believed it to be Boris’ unique appearance. Roxy had a more generic Native American look. Boris’ albino-like aspects made him stand out, regardless of the situation. If it were a false alarm, he wanted Kamiakin with them. If it proved to be correct, he wanted his lieutenant to be able to call for more help.

  While Kamiakin took care of that report, he’d told Nolan that Moriah had headed to the cabin to guard Joseph—where Lance and Lisa had been moving toward. With Moriah and Lisa together, there was reason to think things were fine. But the belief that Lance had somehow made a direct connection to him combined with the images he received made him worry.

 

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