Son of the Moonless Night (The Turning Stone Chronicles Book 3)

by C. D. Hersh

  Rhys held out his hands.

  “Careful, Francoise,” Eli warned. “Ye dinna want tae upset the laddie. Rhys ’tis a mite powerful.”

  Pushing Damon aside, Francoise strode toward Rhys and slapped his hands onto Rhys’ palms. “What can he do to me by merely telling me what she looks like?”

  Eli laughed. “He dinna tell ye. He pulls her outta ye.”

  Another gasp ran through the crowd as they pressed closer. Francoise tried to pull his hands from Rhys, but he held them.

  “Relax,” Rhys told him. “It’s easier on both of us if you do.”

  Alexi watched with the same anticipation as the rest of the onlookers. She’d never seen Rhys do this. He told her about nearly pulling Delaney’s life force out of her, but he hadn’t wanted to discuss this part of his power. She knew he and Eli had practiced so he could do it without harming others, but she still held her breath anxiously.

  With narrowed eyes and furrowed brow, Francoise clearly resisted Rhys’ attempts to pull out his alter ego as Rhys held his gaze with his.

  “Easy, laddie,” Eli whispered. “Dinna kill the man.”

  The sound of Eli’s voice, or the word kill, seemed to break Francoise’s concentration. His eyes fluttered briefly then, suddenly, a woman stood in his place. Rhys let go of her hands. She stumbled backward, and he reached out and caught her. As Francoise’s alter ego glanced at Rhys, she swooned and collapsed in his arms.

  Eli rushed to her side. “Ye dinna harm her, did ye?” he asked Rhys anxiously.

  Checking her pulse, Rhys answered, “No. I was careful.” As he laid her on the floor, she changed back into her normal male persona, eyelids fluttering open.

  “What happened?” he asked as he regained consciousness.

  “You changed into a woman,” Damon said, his voice filled with awe and something else Alexi couldn’t quite place.

  She scanned his aura. Swirls of muddy forest green whirled around him. He was jealous and resentful. Probably because they had knocked him out of the Promised One race. Quickly, she scanned Francoise. Bright lemon yellow spiked in the red and green of his aura. His potential Promised One had been eliminated, and he didn’t like it much. As he regained his composure the resentment in Francoise’s aura faded.

  “Proof test number three,” Eli declared. “Do ye need any mair convincing?”

  “No!” the group answered.

  “Which one shall we vote on?” Cornelius asked.

  “Neither. I’m declaring them both Promised Ones.”

  The room broke out in an uproar. “Unheard of!”, “We can’t do that!”

  “Why do ye say I canna do that? I always declare the Promised One at the end o’ the testing afore the vote o’ confirmation.”

  “Two can’t be Promised One. It’s against prophesy,” Francoise shouted.

  “I say ’tis the prophesy. When month and day are the age ’tis the time,” Eli intoned. “When day and month are the time ’tis the age. Have ye never wondered why the words are the same yet reversed? ’Tis because we’ve understood the prophesy wrong all these years. ’Tis nae one Promised One we’ve needed, but two. They stand afore ye now, stronger than any we’ve ever seen. Stronger than both sides have ever seen. Because we have a new understanding, we have what we need tae defeat the rogues and bring the long sought era o’ peace tae the world. We can be what we were meant tae be . . . the overseers and keepers o’ the world’s peace.”

  He paused, and she watched as his words sank into the minds of those present. They believed Eli, at least most did. A few faces still held expressions of confusion or doubt, but she knew she and Rhys could convince them once they had a chance.

  “What about the third part of the prophesy?” someone called from the back of the room. “When time and age agree, trinity becomes unity.”

  “I dinna see our understanding o’ that has changed. The Promise Ones have three egos, and, as man and wife, Rhys and Alexi are in agreement. Therefore, I dinna see any reason tae suspect that part o’ the prophesy ’tis misunderstood.”

  “That’s all well and good, but we are a rule of council not a rule of a single man, Eli,” Francoise said. “I say we choose one to vote for confirmation.”

  “We vote now. On both of them,” Eli said. At the wave of his hand, one of the guards passed out three stones to each of the fifteen council members, one red, one green, and one black. “Put yer stones in the chalice and choose. Red fer Rhys, green fer Alexi, and black to abstain.”

  Her stomach knotted again. She hadn’t expected a vote for each of them. She thought they were a package deal. What if they chose Rhys and not her? Or God forbid, her and not Rhys? Eli wouldn’t let that happen, would he? Nor had she expected an abstention vote. What if no one voted for them? Worse yet, what if a black stone meant they had enemies in their own camp?

  Eli had said there were power hungry shifters, even among the good. She lowered her head to hide the frown forming because of pain in her head. Be strong. You have to be strong and believe in Eli.

  Emotions under control, she raised her chin and watched as the members filed past the table. Each chink of stone dropped into the chalice sounded in her head like an avalanche rolling down a mountainside. It didn’t matter how they voted. She was a shifter. Promised One or not by their vote, she knew she and Rhys were stronger than anyone else. They would do whatever it took to keep their worlds, the magical and non-magical ones, safe.

  With the votes cast, Eli poured the stones onto the red and green tablecloth and sorted the colors. Thirteen red stones, thirteen green stones, and two black stones lay on the table.

  At least two people didn’t want them. The thought did nothing to cheer Alexi. She’d hoped for an easy, welcoming transition after the trouble they had last year with Sylvia and Rhys’ rogue twin brother.

  “’Tis equal. Rhys Temple and Alexi Jordan Temple ’twill share the title o’ Promised One o’ the Secret Society o’ the Turning Stones. Saviors and bringers o’ peace.”

  A cheer rose, and Alexi surveyed the room. Most of the shifters seemed happy and rushed forward to congratulate them, but a ripple of disquiet ran through her. All was not as well as Eli hoped. Reaching for Rhys standing by her side, she wrapped her arm around his waist. He pulled her close and tucked her into his shoulder. One of the women grasped her hand and started shaking it, then the strangest thing happened.

  The woman’s alter ego floated to the surface, superimposed on her face like an optical illusion. Alexi saw the man in the woman! Quickly, she let go of the woman’s hand and turned to Rhys just as he grabbed the hand of another female shifter. There, imposed on the face of the woman, was the shifter’s male alter ego. The room started spinning. As she grabbed a handful of Rhys’ shirt, the room went black.

  “Are you sure you shouldn’t stay home?” Rhys asked Alexi for the fifteenth time. Her tumble to the hotel floor last night had her husband hovering like a hummingbird around a petunia. Touching the bruise on her temple, he muttered, “I should have caught you in time.”

  Tipping her head back out of his reach, she assured him, again, she was fine and he wasn’t to blame for the bump on her head. “It doesn’t hurt, and no one will notice and think you’ve beaten me.” She gave him a crooked smile meant to tease, and he rose to the bait, grabbed her, and thrust his hips against hers.

  “We could beat something else before you go, since you’re feeling okay.”

  As she wrapped her arms around him, Alexi glanced at her watch. “No time this morning. I’ve got meetings and you’ve got an appointment with the CEO of WK Shipping. P.I. work. Remember? And Delaney and Harry are leaving in a few minutes. We don’t want to miss saying goodbye.”

  Rhys kissed the top of her head. “Okay, slave driver. Let’s get going.”

  Delaney, Harry, and Eli wai
ted in the front foyer, suitcases at their sides.

  Delaney grabbed Alexi and hugged her tightly. “I’m going to miss you, sweetie. Don’t be a stranger, okay? We want you and Rhys to come visit us whenever you can. I’m always just a phone call away if you need anything.” She wiggled her arm at Rhys, indicating he should come in for a hug.

  Stepping into Delaney’s embrace, he threaded one arm around her and the other around Alexi. As they encircled Delaney, his fingertips touched Alexi’s.

  The air around them shimmered, like it had last night, but not as strong. A shiver shimmied along Alexi’s spine. Pulling back, she stared at Delaney. The man in the woman appeared, superimposed on her face, then the image shifted. Startled, Alexi jerked abruptly, breaking the connection, afraid she would pass out like she had at the Samhain meeting.

  “Did you see that?” she asked Rhys.

  “See what?” Rhys said.

  “She’s a fox.”

  Stepping forward, Harry linked his arm through Delaney’s. “Yep. I’ve got me one foxy lady.” He gave Delaney a kiss on the cheek.

  “No,” Alexi said. “She’s a fox, a real fox.”

  The round-eyed look Delaney gave her confirmed her statement. “How do you know that?”

  “I saw your animal ego when Rhys and I hugged you.”

  “’Tis nae possible,” Eli said. “Ye canna see our animal egos.”

  Harry’s head bobbed back in surprise, and he ogled Delaney. “A fox? You’re a fox?” He rotated to face Eli. “How many blasted animal egos do you people have? Rhys and Alexi are hawks, Sylvia’s a panther, and,” he turned back to Delaney, “you’re a fox?”

  “Our animal egos can be anything,” Eli replied, “even a titmouse, although ’tis nae an animal most would want. We dinna share our animal egos readily with others either, unless we’ve a need tae do sae, and we trust them wholeheartedly.” He turned to Rhys. “Did ye see anything, laddie?” When Rhys shook his head, Eli waved his hands as if gathering the air. “Do whatever ye did afore when the fox appeared, and this time look at Delaney, laddie.”

  Rhys and Alexi threaded their arms around each other then hugged Delaney, touching fingertips like they had before. The air shimmered again.

  “Do you see that? On her face?” Alexi asked Rhys as the man in the woman appeared.

  He peered closer. “A man. I see it.” He started to back away.

  “Don’t let go,” she commanded. “Now, do you see the other face?”

  The hiss of his intake of breath told her he saw Delaney’s fox ego superimposed on the two human egos.

  “Can ye bring them oot?” Eli asked.

  Breaking contact, Delaney stepped back quickly. “Nope. Not going there.” She retreated into Harry’s arms. “He darned near killed me the last time he tried to pull out my alter ego.” Harry tensed and started toward Rhys, but Delaney pulled him back. “Not his fault. An accident, but I’m not taking any chances, especially since his, or her, or their powers seem to be growing.”

  Baffled, Alexi faced Eli. “What’s happening?”

  “Has this happened tae ye afore?”

  “No. Not this, but I did see something last night right before I fainted. I thought the excitement, or the tension of the night was getting to me. But now . . .” Her hands circled helplessly in front of her.

  Stroking his beard, Eli replied, “I dinna know. Mayhap the affirmation o’ yer positions ’tis affecting yer powers. Or mayhap yer just growing stronger as yer bond grows.” He stopped and gave her a long, hard perusal, his gaze raking up and down her. “Or mayhap . . .” A short huff escaped from him, and a tiny smile started on his face. “I canna believe ’twould be . . . but ’twould be amazing. Truly amazing.”

  “What?” all four of them said together.

  “’Tis it possible ye have a wee one on the way?”

  “A baby?” Delaney and Harry said in tandem.

  “A baby?” Rhys said, his voice full of shock.

  “A baby!” She nearly shouted the word. “No! The city is overrun with rogues. We didn’t get a one-hundred percent vote last night, so someone doesn’t want us to be the leaders. Hugh is tracking terrorists, and he thinks the rogues are in league with them. I just made captain. We can’t have a baby now!”

  Nausea overcame her, and her breakfast rose. Clapping her hand over her mouth she ran to the hallway bathroom.

  As she slammed the door, she heard Rhys exclaim, “Are we having a baby?”

  Good heavens, she thought as she emptied her stomach contents into the toilet. I’m having a baby!

  Chapter 7

  Owen set two cups of latte on the wrought iron café table on Kat’s front patio and then took a seat. The jack o’lantern in the center of the table grinned at him, as if it knew a secret. His secret. As he rotated the leering face away, the pungent scent of pumpkin floated across on the crisp morning air. Glancing at his watch, he hoped he’d arrived before Kat left for her job. After last night’s dinner, which had been too short, he didn’t even know where she worked. Apparently, this woman who rescued him hadn’t turned him into the authorities for killing a bear. That intrigued him. Why hadn’t she? And what had she seen? These were two questions uppermost in his mind, along with getting to know her better.

  She was hot in a Gothic sort of way. Not the kind of woman he normally dated. He preferred classy. But, since he’d become a shifter things had changed. He had changed. Kat was intelligent and he liked that. Dummies didn’t cut it in the forensic science field. But Celtic crosses, black garb, and heavy eye makeup didn’t scream classy. In spite of that, she appealed to him.

  The front door swung open, and Kat exited wearing a short, black mini skirt, knee high black boots, and a black, scooped necked t-shirt. The Celtic cross, which teased him with its proximity to her breasts last night, peeked out from under the vee of her black pea coat lapels. When she spotted him, her mascara-lined eyes rounded.

  “Good morning.” He thrust one of the cups toward her. “Latte?”

  Kat took the proffered cup and opened the lid. “What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting for you. I thought I might walk you to work.”

  As she snapped the lid back on the cup, her eyes narrowed to slits and a tiny crease grew between the bridge of her nose. He wondered what was distrustful about a walk to work.

  “Have you had breakfast?” she asked as her frown smoothed. “Food interests me more than work right now.”

  He cocked his head and studied her. Didn’t she want him to know where she worked? As casually as he could he replied, “I could go for more than coffee. Any suggestions?”

  “There’s a home cooking diner across from the police station. Have you ever eaten there?”

  “The one the cops eat at all the time?”

  “Do they?”

  Something about the way she avoided the question made him wary. “You trying to get me close to the police station?”

  “If I’d wanted to turn you in, I’d have done so before now.” Her voice snapped with indignation.

  Inwardly, he smiled. She’d given him a great lead in to one of his questions. “So why haven’t you?”

  “I’ve asked myself the same thing.”

  She took a drink of the coffee, sipping slowly. A stall tactic he recognized.

  The edges of her mouth tipped upward. “Maybe because you intrigue me.”

  “The feeling’s mutual.” He returned her smile, putting what he hoped was a bit of sexy in it.

  She blushed, the pink glow on her pale face enhancing her natural beauty. Yeah, he definitely wanted to know her better. Offering his arm, he said, “Lead the way, even into a den of cops.”

  The walk to the diner took about fifteen minutes and, in spite of Owen’s attempts to get Kat to talk about he
r job, he got no new information from her. As they closed in on the last block, he decided to change the subject completely.

  “So where did you come from originally?”

  “Promise you won’t laugh, and I’ll tell you.”

  Making a big X on his chest, Owen replied, “Cross my heart.”

  “Transylvania.”

  “Romania?”

  “Louisiana.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “Nope. It’s named after a Kentucky College called Transylvania University, which is named after the Transylvania Colony founded in 1775 by a guy from North Carolina.”

  “Any connection to Dracula?”

  “Personally? No.”

  “Good to know since I value my neck.” She averted her face, and he couldn’t get a read on her. Something told him she held back. She had secrets. Could he use them against her to keep her quiet about the killing, if she should change her mind?

  The bell on the diner door tinkled as they entered. Cops jammed the tiny storefront restaurant. Their sheer number made him nervous. A man waved at Kat from one of the tables. Weaving her way through the crowd toward the man, Owen trailed behind. As they neared, the man scowled, his glare rooting Owen to the floor. Roc Decker’s twin, Rhys Temple, the man−no, the shifter−responsible for Roc’s death sat less than a foot away from him. His heart leapt into overdrive. So close to Roc’s murderer. So not the right timing he hoped for.