Leopard Moon

by Jeanette Battista

  Life had fallen into an enjoyable rhythm. She still went to work at the Barn, she still kept her room at Bran and Anita's boarding house. She still saw Cormac almost every day. She had made a few friends outside of the pack circle and was trying to get used to the idea of being able to put down roots, to stay. She'd gotten what she'd wanted most in the end and at a price she was more than willing to pay.

  ***********

  It was a slow Tuesday night at the Barn and, for once, she wasn't working. Instead, Kess sat at the bar looking at a course catalog with Cormac. They were trying to plot out her first year of college, which she hoped to start in the fall, at least part time. He was pointing to a particular course in the book and telling her how it correlated to her requirements when the bartender interrupted them.

  "Hey Kess," he said, wiping down the bar with a rag. "I think someone's looking for you." He pointed to the doorway.

  She slewed around in her seat, wondering who could possibly be looking for her. The last time she had seen the man who stood in the doorway he was carrying the limp form of her brother out of the mountains. Bomani.

  Cormac had turned around too and she felt him tense beside her. He shifted his eyes to her and raised a brow. She shrugged. She had no idea what he was doing back here, but there was a very simple way to find out. She squeezed Cormac's hand as she slid down from the barstool, then left him as she went to greet the wereleopard.

  "Bomani," she said, keeping her voice low and calm. "What brings you back here?"

  He stood looking down at her, impassive as always. "I have come with some news for you. And some paperwork that I think you will find interesting. It is from your father." Before she could ask, he said, "Sekhmet is not with me. I came alone."

  Kess released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and gestured to a bar table. She waited until he was seated, then seated herself. "Do you need anything—something to drink or eat?" She was trying to be polite. Until she heard what he had to say, there was no point in being otherwise. She remembered Bomani from when her father was alive, and while the man was not what she'd call warm, he had always treated her with a careful respect. She tried to hold onto that now.

  "No thank you." He took out a sheaf of papers from the black satchel that he carried. "Your father always wanted you and your brother to be provided for. Since Sek had reached his majority when your father passed," Kess noticed how he didn't mention the circumstances of her father's passing, "these weren't necessary for him. He came into his part of the inheritance automatically.

  "But you just turned eighteen recently. He had your part set aside in a trust until that day. I came up here to have you sign the papers and leave you with all of the account and trust information." He slid the stack of papers over to her while she tried very hard not to gape at him.

  "My father set all of this up?"

  "Of course. He couldn't be certain who would succeed him as the head of the clan or when. He wanted to make sure you and your brother were taken care of. He did this many years ago, soon after your mother died."

  "Oh," she whispered, flipping through the pages. She remembered the last time she'd spoken to her father. She'd told him she loved him. She was glad she'd gotten to say it one last time.

  "I understand that it is difficult to process. You can look those over at your leisure." He waited a beat. "However, this was not the only reason why I came. I must speak to you about something else as well, something unpleasant. Your brother."

  She stacked the papers together neatly and folder her hands on top of them, trying to give her body something to do. The thought of her brother still made her uncomfortable, but he didn't frighten her like he had before. "How is he?" she asked quietly.

  "Unwell."

  "Physically or...um...emotionally?"

  Bomani met her gaze with a frank one of his own. "Your brother was never what could be called stable. Your...falling out... has made it worse. More pronounced. I have allowed him a certain amount of autonomy within the clan, but I fear that will not be enough for him. Some still look to him as a leader. Unless..."

  Kess' narrowed her eyes, not liking the way he let that word hang. "Unless what?"

  He leaned forward. "Come home. You are the rightful clan head; you could stabilize the clan and counter your brother. And Sek could live out his days quietly."

  Kess sat back. "I won't do that. I don't want the clan," she reminded him.

  "But we need you," Bomani answered. "You are a wereleopard, Kess, and you are one of us no matter how you may wish it otherwise." He smiled slightly. "You cannot run forever."

  Kess met his gaze again, deeply uncomfortable with the conversation. She had thought she had settled all of this months ago. It appeared she'd been wrong. She decided to change the topic. "Do you really think that Sek would relinquish what power he has willingly? To me?" She knew better.

  Bomani subsided back in his chair. "He would. If it meant he got you home."

  Kess felt sick. She could not go back there; not while he was there. Maybe not ever. The idea of staying in the same house--the same city--with him was not something she could contemplate.

  "I can't," she said, meeting the older man's eyes. "Not with him there. I've got a life now, a future."

  "Kess, we need a strong leader if our clan hopes to hold our territory. Even now, we are threatened as outside factions learn of our weakness. Would you condemn us all to death?" Her eyes flashed up as anger filled her.

  She kept her voice low so that others wouldn't overhear, but her tone was harsh. "Would you blame me?"

  Bomani pulled away from her at the anger in her voice. "You can't blame all of us for Sekhmet's behavior."

  "You didn’t stop him," she spat, leaning forward. "None of you did. Not when he was hunting for me and not when he killed my father."

  "Kess, you know I couldn't." He sounded sad, and she realized that Bomani had known her father longer than she'd been alive. "Rite of challenge prohibits intervention."

  She calmed down a little. "Putting me in an impossible position will not make me more sympathetic to your situation." She paused, then added, "You know I don't like being herded."

  Bomani inclined his head. "My apologies. I did not mean to presume. But I thought you should know how precarious our position is." He looked away for a moment and Kess thought he was trying to decide what to say next. She waited.

  "Please, think about my offer. It does not have to be today." He tapped the pages he'd given her. "You will find your father's attorney and financial advisor's contact information among the other information should you have any questions. Sign the papers and follow the instructions to return them." He stood up. "My card is in there as well should you need anything."

  Kess walked him to the doorway. Before leaving, he turned and said, "Kess, it is...unfortunate what happened between you and your brother, but do not punish your clan for that. All I ask is that you think about what I have said."

  He turned to leave, but she stopped him. There was something that had been bothering her for the past several months. "There is one thing I've been wondering." He quirked a brow at her. "You lessened the dosage of whatever drug you gave me that night, didn't you? There's no way I should have been able to burn a full dose off that fast." Her metabolism burned through drugs quickly, but not so quickly that she would have been able to save Cormac.

  Bomani smiled like a sphinx. "You are the clan leader," was his reply.

  She nodded and watched him leave the restaurant, not sorry to see him go.Kess chewed her lower lip. He had asked her to think about her clan's survival, about her brother's, and she would, but it upset her that she had to. She had renounced the clan when she'd beaten Sek. It should have been enough. She took the papers he had given her and returned to her chair next to Cormac.

  "Everything okay?" he asked.

  She nodded. "I need some time to process it before I talk about it, but yeah. Thanks." She began to read the first page and came to a number that mad
e her blink. Then she let out a laugh that startled Cormac.

  "What is it?"

  Kess pointed to the paper and Cormac read what was written there. The amount of money referenced was enough for ten colleges, for travel, for a house, for anything she could possibly want. Her father had indeed provided for her and had done so very well. Cormac put his arms around her and she felt warm and safe and loved. Tomorrow she would send back the papers and go to the bank and handle everything related to her trust. And perhaps in the coming weeks she'd consider her clan and Sek, and think about Bomani's offer.

  But for now, for right now, she felt she had earned the right to enjoy her happiness. She'd worked hard to find it. Her father's words came back to her: Be well.

  She would be.

  ###

  And now a sneak peek at Jackal Moon, the next book in the Moon series.

  JACKAL MOON

  PROLOGUE

  Bomani stood on the front lawn of the white house, looking out at the water. The sun was setting, turning the sky a molten orange-red. It looked like the water should be boiling with the fire sinking below the horizon. Feathery light clouds crossed over the deep pinks, hot oranges, and wicked reds that painted the sky in colors of conflict.

  And conflict was coming, Bomani had no doubt about that. He'd been clan counselor to two wereleopard clan leaders; he could tell when change was in the air. He'd watched when Sekhmet had killed his own father—and Bomani's lifelong friend—to replace him as leader of their clan. He'd looked on when Sek had fought his sister Kess and been defeated and very nearly killed.

  That had surprised Bomani. He'd been counting on sister killing brother. Sek was not a stable leader for their clan. Kess was an unknown, having been away from Miami for over a year, but he was willing to risk everything on the hope that she was more sane than her brother.

  That she had let him live was unexpected; that she had not accepted the mantel of clan leadership, mind-boggling. Kess had specified that Sek was to remain clan leader in her absence, with the condition that he never attempt to see or contact her again. Bomani, and all others in the clan, were under her orders to make sure Sek abided by that rule.

  It was proving more difficult to enforce that edict than even Bomani had been expecting. The first couple of months after their return from North Carolina, Sekhmet had been focused on healing after his disastrous attempt to bring Kess home. He hadn't had the strength or energy to continue his pursuit of his sister. But now that he was fully recovered, with only silvery scars on his face, throat and stomach as reminders of his ordeal, Sek was more obsessed than ever.

  Masud stepped out of the house, the younger wereleopard walking over to where Bomani stood. The clan counselor waited until Masud was close, then asked, "How did he take it?" Bomani was certain he already knew the answer to his question.

  The other wereleopard wiped at the blood dripping from a cut on his forehead. "About how you'd expect." When Bomani pointed at the wound, Masud shrugged. "He threw two glasses at me this time. I ducked the first one, but…."

  The two of them stood there in silence for a few moments. Bomani knew Sek was becoming more erratic, descending into black pits of depression, followed by days of manic energy. His periods of calm were becoming fewer and farther between, especially now that Kess was denied him for good. Masud was an almost constant companion to the ill clan leader, and Bomani was grooming him to be his successor as counselor. The young man had a good head on his shoulders; it just remained to be seen if he could handle the less savory work that the position sometimes required. He was also the only one that Sekhmet seemed to trust lately, although that seemed to be on the wane.

  Bomani knew that drastic measures would need to be taken to ensure their clan's survival. Samara and her hyenas were already sniffing around the territory, sensing weakness. He'd already gone back to North Carolina to try and convince Kess to come home; to drive home how desperate they were becoming. She had said she'd think about it, but he had yet to hear from her.

  He was vexed.

  Masud spoke. "I supposed I should go back in and check on him." He was reluctant.

  "Make sure you dose his drink. He needs a good night's sleep."

  Masud nodded and went back inside the house. Bomani stared at the ocean for a while longer. Then he put his hand into the interior pocket of his jacket and withdrew a disposable cell phone. He walked down to the boat dock, dialing the number that would put him in contact with the Keepers of Divine Order. They were the werecreature problem solvers, and it was not lightly that Bomani called them.

  He quickly explained what he required to the contact at the other end of the line. The Keepers were implacable and circumspect. They would not fail. Bomani negotiated the transfer of funds, although he had already made the arrangements before placing the call. He hung up, saddened for a moment that the plan was in motion.

  Kess would soon return to Miami. One way or another.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The incense was the thing she remembered most about her marking ceremony. It had been heavy, almost like another presence in the room. The smoke from it had sent up a thick plume that threaded through the air like a serpent, undulating in the drafts. At fourteen, Laila had been fascinated by it. It gave off a powerful scent of funerary herbs, of things she'd been smelling since the cradle. Myrrh of course, and dragsonsblood, and something almost floral--possibly yarrow. It dulled her other senses and Laila felt herself slipping into a kind of half-trance.

  Her father was speaking, although there wasn't anyone else there to witness the marking. It was just her and her father, and if she really believed in such things, the jackal-headed god Anubis. They sat in the basement room that served as the center of worship. The marking ceremony was a private thing, held when the initiate was fourteen. The closest thing that Laila could compare it to was a Catholic's confirmation--the time in the participant's life where they were actively choosing to follow in the faith that, up until that point, had been chosen for them. With the Keepers of Divine Order, it was the same. If you were serious about service to them, and to Anubis, you were marked with a bronze knife at fourteen somewhere on your body.

  The Keepers of Divine Order have been around since ancient times. It was thought that the very first Keepers originated in ancient Egypt, where people with a need would go to the edges of cities, near the necropolis or cemeteries where the jackals and other night scavengers gathered, and leave their request along with an offering. The werejackals in the area would evaluate the requests and decide whether to grant them, depending upon the offering left or whether they felt the request met their requirements. Laila highly doubted that the first werejackals had been terribly picky.

  Laila had been raised knowing that this was her path. She had wanted nothing else. Weaned on stories of the Anubis Knights and their exploits, reared by a highly respected Keeper and sister to another, Laila thought her marking ceremony was a foregone conclusion. There was no other choice for her. She'd been in training since she was old enough to walk, even if she hadn't known it at the time. Her wrestling games with her father and brother had been precursors to the martial arts lessons that soon followed; private piano lessons honed swift and flexible fingers that could strip and reassemble a rifle in record time. At fourteen, she stood before the small statue of Anubis with more fighting and weapons knowledge than most enlisted military men.

  The old bronze khopesh knife was placed in the center of the low table, wreathed in smoke. Laila stared at it, unable to look away. It was almost as long as a man’s forearm, the blade shaped somewhere between a claw and a sickle. She’d seen it plenty of times--it was her father’s after all and he carried it with him almost everywhere he went--but it scared her now. She felt sweat break out across her face.

  Her father finished intoning in his deep voice and he slewed around on his knees to face her. Her father, like everyone in her family, wasn’t tall for a man, but his lean frame was incredibly strong. Most people underestimated the
m because of their size. It was a mistake they would not repeat, usually because they were dead.

  He lifted the blade in both hands, like an offering. “This supplicant comes before you, seeking admittance to your Divine Order. May you receive her and deem her worthy.”

  She said the words that she had memorized. “I offer unto you my life and my service, great Lord Anubis. You are the Opener of the Way and the Lord of Order. I will be your eyes and hands here on earth. I ask that you find use for them.”

  Her father knee-walked over to her, the knife still held before him in one hand, a chalice in the other. He gave her an encouraging smile. “Ready?” he whispered.

  Not trusting herself to speak, Laila nodded. Her father drew the knife down her forehead in a vertical line above her left eye. Blood spilled out, dripping down her brow bone and into the cup he held against her face. She closed her eyes so he could continue cutting, beginning again just beneath her eye and stopping the line parallel with the tip of her nose. The smell of blood, even this small amount, was thick in the closed room.

  “By blood and by bone, by earth and by darkness, by life and by death, so I offer my oath.” She clenched her hands into fists, feeling hot and nauseous in the little room. Blood still dripped down her face and suddenly Laila was swept with the urge to fight, to hurt, to lash out with teeth and claw. It was almost overwhelming at first and she shook as the sensations passed through her. It was a little like when she changed forms, although she was still relatively new to it since her fourteenth birthday. When she changed, she was always in charge; it was simply another part of her that was taking precedence. This new feeling was edgier though, almost like she danced on the edge of control. It was scary and dangerous and she was a little appalled to find out that she kind of liked it.