Under the Midnight Cloak

by S. Y. Thompson

  Moving closer to the light source, Lee could see it was Jamison who held the lantern. She wore her ranger's uniform and squatted near the entrance to the hollow. Jamison appeared to be sifting through a pile of torn, blood-stained clothing, searching for something Lee couldn't fathom. She tried to cry out, to warn the woman she was starting to love, but the sound caught in the back of her throat. Lee knew this was the beast responsible for the recent deaths and she was convinced it had targeted Jamison as its next victim.

  She still didn't understand what connection the black jaguar had to all of this, but she felt certain the cat wasn't responsible. What she comprehended without any doubt was that this monster in front of her would kill Jami without thought, hesitation or remorse.

  Finally, she found her voice and screamed out a warning that Jamison didn't hear. The killer was closing in, its mouth gaping in a parody of a maniacal grin, teeth razor sharp and forked tongue lolling to the side like some kind of crazy serpent. It rushed forward, muscles straining to close the gap before its prey became aware.

  Lee was running to get there before the creature could attack, to somehow save Jamison from this hellish nightmare, but she felt mired in quicksand. Her lungs burned, breath burst from her chest as she strained against her own physical limitations. Then she was different, more than she was before. Her claws tore into the ground as she propelled herself forward on four legs. Her clothing fell away, ripped into shreds from the force of conversion. A tremendous roar of challenge burst from her throat as her powerful haunches gathered, preparing for the fatal leap onto the monster's back.

  Lee awakened with a scream on her lips, sitting up in the darkness and safety of her bedroom. Trembling, she raised her hands to her face, wiping sweat from her brow and pricking the sensitive skin of her forehead. Confused, she looked at her hands in the moonlight and was staggered by the appearance of her right hand and arm. Where she should have seen human flesh was a massive cat's foreleg and paw. Black, irregular patterns covered milky fur and the tips of her nails were sharp and curved into a deadly point.

  A persistent growl from the foot of the bed caused her to gasp and look away from the fantastic sight, propelled back into the horrors of her dream. Cleo stood looking at her, forward legs extended and her lips curled back in warning over her teeth. Her best friend growled steadily and backed away as far as the footboard would allow and her gaze never once wavered from Lee's face.

  "Cleo, honey, what is it? It's just me, everything's okay. What's the matter, girl?"

  Lee kept her voice soft and steady, trying to reassure her. The nightmare had slipped away for the time being, concern for Cleo the only thing important at that moment. For several long minutes she tried to talk her down and finally Cleo began to relax. Her hackles were still raised, but she stopped growling. When Lee felt it was safe, she reached out her hand and Cleo came to her. She wagged her tail erratically, still unsure but willing to approach her. Lee gathered the dog against her breast and continued whispering reassurances in her ear until Cleo relaxed and began to pant in her post doggie fright.

  When everything seemed normal once again, Lee put Cleo to the side and reached over to switch on the bedside lamp to reassure herself that her hand was indeed her own and not a giant paw. She opened and closed her fingers several times, relieved to find everything was as it should be. Then she looked down at the sweat dampened sheets.

  Her hand was definitely as expected, but how could she explain the four long furrows ripped into the bedding?

  SLEEP WAS OUT of the question. Lee sat sipping coffee at the table in the formal dining room. This wasn't a place she often found herself since the chamber was so big and often felt intimidating, but this morning it was exactly what she needed. The breakfast nook where she usually took her meals had left her with a slightly claustrophobic sensation, craving the feel of open space. The nightmare forced her to face all of the ramifications of what she'd learned since moving to Mafdet. Either she had to acknowledge the puzzle that was being slowly revealed, or admit she might be going crazy. Since Lee was fairly sure she wasn't insane, there was only one alternative.

  What was it Jamison had called her, Sherlock? Well, Holmes always said, "When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth". That meant there really were people who could transform into mighty, morphing jungle cats.

  Lee fought not to roll her eyes as she took another sip of her cooling brew and stared out the darkened window into the early morning.

  Accepting there were such things as shape changers, it stood to reason that the robe-wearing partygoers were a component of that enclave. Aunt Chris' own cloak indicated she'd been involved with them and they'd probably been conducting rituals of some kind around that pit for years.

  All of the answers had been provided for her, given by some truly unexpected resources. Jamison herself had said Chris held huge parties semi-annually and that the entire town attended. That confirmed Lee's prior suspicions that all of Harmon was involved and also explained why no one answered any of her questions. The jaguar she'd caught on camera was probably one of those so-called shifters, but Lee couldn't figure out why it was watching her.

  Was it waiting to see if she would suddenly embrace her animal side; tear off her clothes and run naked and screaming into the forest? The question reminded her of the nightmare and she looked down at her right hand.

  Was that part a dream, too? Or had it been real?

  The sheets she had thrown away answered the question for her. Twice now, after having a nightmare, Lee had awakened and seen something unusual about herself, first in her eyes after the death of Jami's friend and then last night.

  'Your dreams are the doorway.'

  That's what Aunt Chris said in her letter. Could it be true? Was she really one of them, tied by the blood in her veins to a Kadin who tended to these people? Was Jamison one as well? Jami had lived in these woods her entire life. She obviously knew the people and had been very close to Chris. But if so, why didn't she just explain everything in a way Lee could understand?

  "Why doesn't someone just tell me what's going on?"

  Cleo picked her head up from where it rested between her paws. She looked up at Lee from the floor and cocked her head to the side.

  "It can't be that bad, can it?" she asked her furry friend. "In fact, it could be kind of cool. I might have superhuman strength or be able to scale a brick wall with my claws. Let's see, okay?"

  Lee chuckled and put her mug on the table. Then she closed her eyes and tried to force her body to assume another shape. What would she be? She thought of the jaguar and imagined herself with whiskers and a long, lashing tail. She concentrated so hard, she convinced herself that her skin had started to tingle. She opened her eyes quickly and saw that nothing was different.

  "See," she giggled self-consciously, "same old me."

  Cleo abruptly barked and jumped to her feet, startling Lee into sloshing coffee over the wooden surface. She was so on-edge that for a second, she was convinced a part of her body must have changed into something else. Then she saw headlights sweep across the yard and the windows. A vehicle came to a halt almost directly in line with the front door while the lights and engine shut down.

  Who the...?

  Lee automatically noted the time on the wall clock. 6:30.

  Could it be Jami? Maybe she wants to make up for last night.

  She couldn't imagine who else would drop by at such an early hour and left the mess on the table to clean up later, walking toward the door without a second thought. That decision didn't work out so well a few seconds later when she opened the mahogany entryway to the last person she anticipated seeing.

  "Debbie. What are you doing here?"

  Lee looked down into velvet brown eyes and saw the full smiling lips of the woman she had once thought she loved. Warmth filled her at the sight of the well-known face, but was quickly replaced with ambivalence. Their relationship had ended almost a mon
th ago and she'd rarely thought of the woman since. When she did, it was with the remembered disappointment of overhearing a rather unsettling phone conversation. Although she'd only heard one side, it was enough to illustrate that Debbie Mason was after nothing more than her father's money.

  Still, even so early in the morning she appeared as stunning as ever. Decked out in her usual Armani designer dress and heels, she might have been attending the latest gala event fresh from the red carpet instead of standing on the weather-beaten porch steps of a one-hundred year-old manor. Lee glanced over and saw that she'd even driven her blue Porsche 911 TG2 onto Mafdet's rugged terrain.

  Debbie reached up and brushed the long red hair back from her perfect features and cast a winning smile at Lee. "Hello, darling. This place is certainly hard enough to find."

  She spoke as though there was nothing amiss between them and Lee felt suspicion creeping over her. She had never told Debbie where she was going and to her knowledge there was only one other person who ran in her former circles who could have done so. "Again, I ask. What are you doing here?"

  "Oh, come on, honey. Don't be like that. I drove all the way up here myself just to bring you that nasty weapon you asked Jasmine for and this is the thanks I get?"

  Jasmine. It figures.

  "I'm so sorry you couldn't bring your chauffeur," Lee said sarcastically, "but then again it probably wouldn't have been good for your image. After all, why would Debra Mason possibly risk being caught rubbing elbows with some strange woman out in the sticks? Not that it matters, but what on Earth could have compelled Jasmine to load this task off on you anyway? I thought you two didn't get along."

  Or I wouldn't have confided in her. That woman is going to hear about this.

  "Normally, we don't, but I was just so upset when I didn't hear from you. I went to her and simply pleaded for her to tell me where you'd gone. After she heard what I had to say, she was only too happy for me to come up here and try to talk some sense into you." Her expression was an Oscar-winning combination of both confusing and sincere and Lee felt a prickle of apprehension.

  "Uh huh."

  "You could show a little gratitude. I spent all that time driving and almost got lost. What do you need with a rifle anyway?"

  "Shotgun," Lee automatically corrected, her arms folded defensively. Debbie always had a way of talking so fast that she felt like she was running behind to catch up with the abrupt changes in conversational direction.

  "Whatever. Aren't you going to invite me in?"

  Lee reacted by taking a step back, just enough to clear the entrance into Mafdet. The uber-thin model stepped into the foyer, but one look at Cleo was enough to stop her in tracks. She never had liked dogs and it seemed that time away from the beagle hadn't improved her opinion. Debbie took a quick glance around the old-world style décor and her lips twisted in an unbecoming manner.

  "Charming."

  "Did you want something besides bringing me the shotgun, or are you just taking the opportunity to insult my home?" Lee didn't bother to close the door since she didn't want to encourage her uninvited guest to stay any longer than necessary.

  Debbie became quiet and she seemed almost sad. For a few seconds, Lee could almost believe this was a true emotion and not some put-on. It was the first time she could remember seeing Debbie behave that way.

  "Why did you break up with me?"

  "You came all the way out here just to ask me that?"

  She was astonished Debbie would leave the bright lights of New York for something she was convinced the red-head would think inconsequential. There were plenty of rich, single women who would jump at the chance to take Lee's place.

  "It's important. I don't understand what went wrong. I thought we had a good thing."

  "We talked about this."

  "No, we didn't." Debbie was getting angry. "You came up with some lame excuse about having to take over the family estate out here in the wilderness and then you were just gone. Why?"

  Lee had to admit she really hadn't given Debbie a proper answer at the time, but she didn't really think it would have mattered. Her experience with Debbie had shown her to be shallow and opportunistic with very little time for anything emotional.

  "Debbie, you know our relationship wasn't what it should have been and it's not like you would have moved out here with me."

  "You never even asked!"

  "Why would I?" Lee demanded. "Am I wrong? There aren't enough parties out here or the right kind of crowd to mingle with."

  An expression of horror crossed Debbie's pale features. "Of course I wouldn't live out here. Who in their right mind would? But you're still not being honest. Jasmine told me some things, things we need to talk about."

  "She had no right!"

  "Maybe, but I convinced her. I'm very good at that, if you recall."

  Debbie reached up and rested a warm hand against her cheek. She leaned in so close Lee could smell the familiar perfume and see the small ring of black around her sable eyes. She started to react, to lean into the kiss she knew was coming, but she pulled back at the last moment.

  What am I doing?

  Jamison's tanned features raced through her head and she moved back, putting distance between them. "Stop it. The truth is it just wasn't working for me and it was time to move on. Accept it."

  "Nice try, honey, but I can't. I know you have feelings for me and I'm sure we can work things out if you just give me a chance to explain my side of what you think you overheard."

  Just remembering the incident was enough to make Lee furious. She'd felt used by what Debbie had tried to do and speaking with her now wasn't improving the situation. "I heard your side when you were on the phone telling your partner you still hadn't got the combination to the safe. That pretty much told me what I needed to know."

  "Partner? You're the only partner I have and you misunderstood. Please, baby. Let's talk about this."

  She had started to sound desperate and Lee wondered why it was so important to her. She didn't believe it was because Debbie had decided she couldn't live without her, but she could be very persuasive and Lee was starting to consider having the conversation just to get it over with. That wouldn't be a good idea because Debbie could be very persuasive when she wanted to be and it was time to end it now. Not just because of her developing feelings for Jamison, either.

  There was a murderer running around the region, whether man or beast. She might not love Debbie but she didn't want to see anything happen to her and encouraging her to hang around when there was no hope was pointless. Lee might unwittingly be putting her in danger when she hadn't any intention of rekindling their past affair.

  "Go home, Debbie. This is where I belong now."

  Debbie was resolute, laying a comforting hand on Lee's shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere until I've had a chance to explain. I love you, but I can see you're not in the mood for this now. I've booked a room at the Harmon Arms Bed and Breakfast, room number three. I'll be there when you have a chance to reconsider. Now come and get that dreaded thing out of my car."

  Silently, she followed her to the roadster. Debbie opened the door and indicated for her to retrieve the shotgun. Lee blanched when she saw the weapon resting in the floorboard of the car with the barrel pointed toward the roof. The safety wasn't engaged.

  "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

  "What?"

  Lee shook her head and retrieved the shotgun, thumbing the safety at the same time. "Never mind. At least there's no reason for you to ever transport a weapon again."

  She stood up holding the gun angled across her body with both hands. Debbie took advantage of her hindered stance to lean forward and press their lips together in an intimate caress that lingered for only a moment, but was far too long in Lee's opinion. She gasped and pulled back in surprise.

  "Call me later, darling," Debbie said cheerfully and walked around to get behind the wheel. She waved once and drove away.

  Clueless.

&nbs
p; Lee shook her head and walked back into the house.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  DALTON HAD WITNESSED the interplay between the women, one of whom was clearly a weak-blooded human. There was an unmistakable history there and from the scent of the slender redhead, she wanted to rekindle that past. In and of itself, he didn't care what they did, but it might be something he could taunt Kessler with. Getting her in trouble with the elders hadn't worked out like he wanted, but he wouldn't mind trying to burrow under her skin in other ways.

  Spying on the new owner of Mafdet Manor had become very interesting since the Caber ordered him to retrieve the photos of them gathering at the sacred place. It seemed that most of what was occurring around the region had something to do with the old house. He just didn't understand why no one else had figured it out. It only made sense since the Kadin had lived here for centuries and while the dwelling didn't look like much anymore, it had slowly become imbued as a center of power. He thought it likely that the house actually drew energy from the individuals living there over a period of time.

  Thinking again of the purpose for his being there, Dalton smiled nastily. I bet Kessler would like to know her own mother told me to get that photo back. I just wish I could be the one to tell her. I'd love to see her face.

  Moving Hank's body out of the house while Jamison was outside throwing up had been part of his plan to make her look worthless, but it hadn't worked out that way. Before he could make his move, the creature circled back around the house and dragged Hank outside. Aaron hadn't planned on the beast snatching it up and making off with it, but there hadn't been anyone else there. It had to have been the killer. By retrieving the body, the creature had inadvertently rescued Kessler from the Council. The busy-body sheriff wouldn't find anything but sheep's blood on his shirt. It didn't matter. This latest assignment had the potential to elevate him in the elders eyes.

  He sucked his teeth and picked at them with a dirty pinkie nail, considering how such an annoying chore had turned out to be a stroke of fortune. Already he'd learned the killer visited this particular spot repeatedly, the spoor was too strong for that not to have been the case. He'd accidentally found the scent in the woods and followed it back to the tunnel entrance leading into the basement level. All of these nostalgic manor homes had secret entrances and it was only a matter of time before he figured out how to make the hidden entry open. He couldn't just break a window and climb in because there was no guarantee he'd find what he was looking for the first time and it would be that much harder if he had to make a return trip.