Hour of the Lion

Chapter Fifteen

Vic escaped the house before breakfast. She needed a break from all the people and emotions. These last few days, her emotions had turned as topsy-turvy as a B-15 with a drunken pilot.

After hiking the village, she followed a stream into the forest. The breeze whipped around her, blowing a fine dust of snow off the pine branches, and clearing her mind. Last night hadn’t been her finest moment. Then again, what the hell had the guys been growling about? All three men stiff-legged and snarly, and that wasn’t something she’d expected to see from Alec and Calum. Especially Calum.

Vic sighed and leaned her back against a tree. The mountain was so quiet she could hear snow plopping to the ground from the branches, the wind sighing through the pines, the little gurgle of the half-frozen stream.

Yeah, the guys had been pushy. She hadn’t shown much better. What had possessed her to make those waspish comments-Cleavage and Ice Queen? Alec would razz her forever, and Calum might not say anything, but oh, he’d know she’d been jealous. She thumped the back of her head against the trunk. Crap.

Jealous. The thought made her want to run away. But it was too late. She was here and entangled. And a shifter if she wanted to be.

Do I? At first, the thought had horrified her, but now, it didn’t sound that bad. Everyone she’d met seemed pretty normal. Running around as a big cat? How cool would that be?

If only being a wereanimal didn’t have so many downsides, like not being able to return to duty. No way could she pop into fur skin every month-not in Baghdad where people lived cheek by jowl. Or, what if she got shot? Might she wake up in a zoo rather than the hospital?

But how would she earn a living otherwise? All her skills were for war. Give up being a spy to work as a barmaid? Or a housewife? Did these guys even marry? She frowned. Don’t want to go there. She needed to keep her times with Alec and Calum light-hearted. Fun. If it got more serious, well, who would she choose? Calum with his deep, commanding voice, who stole the control from her? Or Alec with that mouth she just wanted to bite and nibble, and who could make her laugh. Who she understood right down to the ground as another soldier.

Damn men. Didn’t they know that one guy was supposed to call dibs and the other back off? No matter what Calum said, she felt guilty to have fucked him. It would be wise to just plain get away from them.

Yet the thought of leaving was so painful, she turned around and started back to the village.

Halfway there, she met Helen hiking up with a large basket over her arm. “Vicki, how nice to see you this morning.” She raised her basket. “I’m hoping the squirrels left me some nuts. There’s one lonely walnut tree just over this rise.” Helen’s face was nipped pink with the cold, her eyes a bright blue under a furred hood. “We’re making cookies in an hour and expecting your help.”

Vic grinned. “I’m there.”

“That’s my girl.” Helen patted her on the shoulder. “If you’re a good child, I’ll let you take some back to your men. They both love their sweets, Alec especially.”

Oh, yeah, she’d seen that. But-"They aren’t mine.”

“Of course not. Whatever came over me to say such a thing?”

Vic gave Helen a suspicious look.

Helen’s eyes danced with laughter. “You can give them cookies anyway-and Jamie also. We’ll bake extra. You change out of those wet clothes when you get back.” She patted Vic and continued up the trail.

Vic watched for a moment, feeling unsettled. Would her mother have been like Helen if she’d lived? Would she have taught Vic to make cookies? And scolded her now and then?

Walking slowly, Vic had just reached the edge of the forest when she heard Helen scream.

“She a woman yet?” Maude and Calum stood in the doorway of her house, watching Jamie play tag with the other teenagers.

“For about two months.” His baby was almost grown up. He felt a pang of mingled pride and grief.

“So her first trawsfur will be any time now.” Maude pursed her lips. “With all the problems down in Cold Creek, you should leave her up here with us, Calum.”

“I’ve considered it. But I’m the one she’s worked with. She responds to my voice.” Fear squeezed his chest as he remembered the child last year who’d panicked and lost the ability to return to human. “What if something went wrong and I wasn’t here?”

Maude opened her mouth, and Calum cut her off. “I can’t stay. My responsibility lies in Cold Creek, especially now. I need to remove that human before he draws attention to us. Or harms another of mine.”

“I understand, Calum. It’s an evil time when a child has to be fearful in her own town.”

“Aye.” He handed Maude his cup. “I’ll see you at Aaron’s in an hour. We-”

A woman’s terror-filled scream ripped though the quiet village and echoed off the mountains. Silence reigned for a few seconds before the noise began.

Helen! Vic sprinted up the trail, cursing the heavy coat that slowed her speed. Before she’d gone far, two mountain lions flashed past, then a bear, leaving her behind so quickly she felt as if she wasn’t even moving.

Vic pushed harder. With each harsh breath, the cold knifed into her lungs. She passed the stream and followed the tracks in the snow. She fell once and scrambled back to her feet as she heard a cougar’s snarl.

At the base of a slope, she burst into a meadow and spotted the lonely walnut tree, then Daniel, Calum, and Alec. Naked and in human form. Helen lay sprawled on the ground, unconscious, and something had ripped her up bad. Red splotches marked the snow, the smell of blood metallic and ugly in the pristine wilderness. Anger and fear tightened Vic’s throat as she saw bites and claw marks.

“I need something to stop the bleeding.” Alec pressed his hands over a long laceration. He scowled at Helen’s coat, the leather thick and useless for bandages.

“I’ll go back,” Calum said.

“No. Here.” Vic shrugged out of her jacket, yanked off her flannel shirt, and tossed it at Daniel. As he ripped off a length of material, she took off the long-sleeved Henley she’d worn under it. Using her boot knife, Vic cut off strips and handed them to Alec.

“She must have covered her head with her hood and arms.” Calum examined Helen’s face and neck with gentle hands. “She didn’t panic.”

Helen’s coat was sliced to ribbons, but it had mostly protected the fragile skin underneath. Not her legs. Multiple gouges went through muscle almost to the bone, and she was bleeding badly. The men worked quickly, tying pressure bandages over the worst of the wounds.

As Vic pulled off her coat and bent to wrap it around Helen, Alec and Calum moved aside.

Calum bent to examine the red-flecked tracks leading away. “It’s a feral.” He looked at Alec, his voice level…and sad. “I’m sorry, cahir.”

Alec bowed his head slightly. “Your will, Cosantir.”

“Let’s get going.” Daniel lifted Helen in his arms.

“Go.” Alec turned to Vic. “You’re shivering, baby. Where’s-” He glanced at Helen, saw the coat around her. “You’re a treasure, Vixen. Now haul that precious ass of yours to where it’s warm.”

Vic hesitated. How could she leave?

Calum put his hand against her back and gave her a nudge. “We’ll be taking turns carrying her down as fast as we can. Will you go ahead and find Aaron? Tell him what has happened and to prepare for us. Medical kit, heated blankets-he knows what to do.”

Vic nodded with relief. “I’m on it.” And then she ran.

When Calum eventually finished his duties and returned to Aaron’s cabin, he looked for Victoria. She wasn’t in the kitchen where Aaron and Maude were stitching up Helen. The living room? There, tucked into a chair. He frowned. Although they’d returned almost an hour ago, she sat by the woodstove shivering, her face still pinched with cold.

Calum poured out some thick black coffee from the pot on the woodstove and held it out to her. “Drink. It’s vile, but hot.”

Giving him a pale smile, she tried to take the cup, but trembled so hard that coffee sloshed over the side.

Calum took it back and set it on the end table. “Stand up.”

She gave him a confused look. Her wits were definitely chilled, or the obstinate little female would have argued with him.

When she stood, he took her place in the chair, pulled her onto his lap, and wrapped his arms around her. She wore a sweater, and he felt as if he held a fluffy icicle.

She relaxed against him. “God, you feel wonderful.”

“I believe you have said that before,” he murmured in her ear, “In the cave.” He hardened at the memory.

She squirmed, then stilled as she felt his erection. “Sorry.”

“I shall live.” With his free hand, he picked up the cup of coffee and held it to her lips. “Drink, cariad.”

She sipped, shivered, sipped. “I feel like a baby,” she muttered.

He chuckled at the resentful tone. “Ah, you begin to recover.”

“Damned cold mountains.”

“They are indeed.” He wrapped his arms tighter around her, enjoying the feel of a female’s softness and the surprisingly firm muscles underneath. He rubbed his cheek over her silky hair, breathing in her scent, marking her with his.

“Sometimes people call you Calum and sometimes Cosantir. What’s a Cosantir?”

Calum grazed his lips over a scratch marring her high cheekbone. “I am guardian of this territory.” He knew what she’d ask next. “That would be the Northern Cascades.”

“Huh. Big area. So, did you run for office or something?”

“Ah, no. I fear this isn’t an elected position. The God chooses.”

Her breathing stopped for a few seconds. “Oookay. Right.”

When her lovely, cinnamon-colored eyes rose to his, he barely stifled a laugh. It had been a long while since someone looked at him like he had gone stark, raving bonkers.

“God picked you out of the herd, huh. And you would know this how?”

He nipped the back of her neck as a reprimand. “It is risky to taunt Herne, Victoria. And I know this because certain powers come with the title.”

Rubbing her nape, she scowled at him. “You’re so full of -”

As he opened himself to the God, power surged through him in an unstoppable wave. From the way she froze, his pupils had probably turned the color of night and even a sense-blind human could feel the hum radiating from him.

She swallowed. “That’s why you played judge for that bear guy?”

“Aye,” he sighed. He’d never wanted to be a Cosantir. He’d been a lawyer-a damn good one-living just inside the territory lines. But one does not refuse the call of a God. With his acceptance, Herne’s power had fallen upon him like an avalanche, sweeping his past life away.

“What’s a feral? Is that what got Helen?”

Bloody hell. “Aye,” he said reluctantly.

“Feral means wild. So did a real mountain lion attack her…or one of you?”

How badly would this aspect of shifter life terrify her? “One of us.”

She glared at him. “Pulling answers out of you is like getting information from a Su-is really difficult. Tell me, do shifters just go around attacking their buddies for fun?”

“Hardly for fun. We are stronger, live longer, are immune to human diseases, but we’re still half-human, Victoria. If a Daonain becomes unbalanced mentally…” He shrugged, hoping she wouldn’t continue.

Her brows drew together. “But humans don’t turn into wild animals when they go nuts. Can it happen to anybody? Are you liable to turn feral?”

“I fear there is no easy answer to your questions,” he said carefully. “Daonain do occasionally decide to live in animal form and simply become wild. However, attacking humans is an aberration.” One that occurred all too often.

“How many ferals have you seen in the last…oh, five years?”

Stubborn wench. “Maybe ten or so.” He felt her stiffen.

“That’s…that’s a lot.” She shivered, and he didn’t know whether from cold or from horror. Why couldn’t she ask his silver-tongued brother these questions? Alec could make a visit to hell sound like a tropical vacation.

“Well, when you guys go hunt this feral, I want to go along. I’m a good shot. Someone can loan me a rifle and-”

“No.”

“Dammit, Calum, Helen is my friend and-”

“There will be no hunting party with weapons.”

She shoved off his lap and stood up, legs braced. “You’re going to just let that thing go? Let it attack some other old person?”

“Victoria, you do not understand. We do not-”

After giving him a scathing look, she retreated to her bedroom.

Bloody hell.

The day was almost over when Vic trudged through the village with a pot of stew. Alec had disappeared. Then Calum had carried Helen to her home and not returned. Vic wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or not. Arguing with Calum…hurt, and being angry with him made her feel sick. Damn him.

When she’d finally left her room, Aaron had looked up from his game of Scrabble with Jamie and asked her to carry the stew to Helen’s house.

Vic took a deep breath of the clean, cold air. She could hear the people in the scattered cabins, chatting, making supper, laughing. A wave of loneliness rolled over her. Would she ever have a place to call home? Somewhere she’d fit in?

“Vicki!” Heather came from the side of her mother’s house, arms full of firewood. “Are you coming here?”

Under Heather’s welcoming smile, the feeling of loneliness lifted like a morning fog. “I am. Aaron sent you guys some stew.”

“Excellent. Mac ‘n’ cheese is the pinnacle of my cooking abilities.” Heather shoved open the front door with one hip. “C’mon in.”

Like Aaron, Helen had a log cabin, but where Aaron’s home was rustic, hers looked bright and cheerful. A chair and couch were covered in vivid floral upholstery and colorful knitted afghans were tossed here and there. A small forest of African violets crowded next to a southern window.

“Feels like a summer garden,” Vic said.

Heather dumped the firewood next to an ornately decorated woodstove. “Makes you forget the snow outside, doesn’t it? Why don’t you put that pot on the stove to warm and sit for a bit? I want to talk with you.”

Vic did as she asked, then took a seat at the table. “What’s up?”

“After Calum brought Mama home, he asked me to explain a couple things about Daonain relationships to you. He seemed to think you’d be more comfortable hearing this from another woman.”

Relationships? “Hearing what?”

“Well, you know we don’t have as many females as males.”

Vic nodded, remembering Alec’s painful explanation of why they couldn’t get involved. “Right.”

“Our customs altered because of that. Human monogamy is so a guy is certain he fathered the children. But we don’t care who begat whoever, not when our race might die out entirely. So we rejoice whenever a baby is born, whether its parents bothered to marry or not-and our marriages aren’t restricted to one male, one female.”

Whoa. Orgy time? “Like a bunch of men and women together?”

“Nah. At least not in a lifemating. Females are too territorial, especially if we’re having kids. Usually it’s two or three male littermates and one female.”

As Helen turned to dish up the stew, Vic stared blankly, wondering when her brain would catch up. More than one guy per woman. Got it.

Which meant the woman probably loved-and fucked-all the men in that relationship. Wow.

The men were usually littermates. Brothers. Alec and Calum are brothers. Littermates. Vic felt her jaw drop open.

Heather grinned. “Looks like you’re catching the drift. There’s more, but that’s enough for one gulp. Think about it, and we’ll talk again. For now, let’s take this in to mother.”

Vic followed Heather into the bedroom. Daniel occupied a rocking chair in one corner, a book open on his lap. “Hey, Vicki.”

Sitting up in bed, Helen smiled at Vic. Her eyes were clear, and pink color had returned to her cheeks.

Vic gave a sigh of relief. “You look much better.”

“Partly thanks to you, dear.” Helen raised her eyebrows. “In fact, I hear you gave me all your clothes and walked back to the village completely naked.”

Vic’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

Helen’s pressed lips didn’t hide her smile as she glanced reprovingly at her son. “I had a feeling he embellished a bit.”

“A guy can dream,” he said. His grin was fast, the sparkle in his eyes wicked. “Vicki did give you all the clothes on top except for a bra.”

Vic felt her cheeks heat.

“Now Daniel, you’re embarrassing her,” Helen scolded. “Vicki, come here.”

When Vic reached the bed, Helen pulled her down for a soft kiss on the cheek. “I thank you for the gift of warmth. Aaron said I would have died if you and the boys hadn’t patched me up so quickly and kept me from chilling.”

Vic moved her shoulders. “Yeah, well, you look really good now considering how much blood you lost.” Vic frowned. Actually, Helen looked too recovered.

“Daonain bounce back quickly,” Heather said, handing her mother the bowl of stew. “Aaron sent this over with Vicki.”

“Bless him. I’m starving. You all excuse me while I rudely eat in front of you.” Helen scooped up a bite. “Mmmmh, the man can cook.”

“Any more of that?” Daniel asked with a pitiful look. “I worked hard today too, you know.”

“Ah, poor baby. Did the wittle baby have to carry his mama who weighs at least a hundred pounds,” Heather said in a syrupy tone.

“Fine, I’ll get it myself.” He stomped out the door. “And she’s at least a hundred-twenty,” came his voice from the other room.

Vic choked on a laugh as Helen and Heather broke into giggles.

“So, Vicki,” Helen said. “Tell me about yourself. After you get adjusted to being a shifter, will you stay in Cold Creek?”

“I don’t-” A knock on the front door interrupted her. Vic heard a murmur of voices, then Alec walked into the bedroom.

She gasped. He had spatters of blood on his face and hands, more on his shirt. She was at his side before she could think. “Where are you hurt? Show me.”

He glanced down at his clothes. “Oh, damn. I’m sorry, sweetie. I should have cleaned up first, but Calum was worried about you.”

Vic tried to move his clothes to see where the bleeding came from, but he took her hands. “It’s not mine.”

“Then-” Had he gone hunting and killed a deer? “Okay.”

“Thank you, Alec,” Helen said as tears filmed her eyes.

Heather was openly crying. “Thank you, Alec,” she repeated.

Jesus fuck, he’d done something more than kill a deer. Vic kept her grip on his hand and yanked him out of the room. Her jaw was set so tight, she had to force out the words, “Okay, I think it’s time we had a talk. In private.”

“We will.” The lines in his face had deepened, making him look another twenty years older.

When they entered Aaron’s cabin, it was empty. Alec left her, wanting to wash and change, so she curled up in a chair by the woodstove. She should be getting all her ducks in a row to yell at him, but her thoughts kept sliding back to that little chat in Helen’s kitchen. Had Heather really implied that Alec and Calum might marry the same woman? That’s why neither of them seemed worried about fucking around with her? Calum had said, “Alec and I often…share…our women. Alone or together.”

Wow. A weird feeling slid through her. She could screw them both, and no one would object? She idly braided a strand of her hair. It sounded pretty cool for sex and everything, but in a marriage? How bizarre must that be? Not like she’d ever find out-she had enough trouble just hanging out with a guy. To marry more than one? Not in a kazillion years.

Neither man had mentioned marriage anyway. Why would they? If shifters didn’t care who fathered babies, then guys probably ran wild when single. Vic realized her jaw had clenched again. She sat back and told her muscles to relax. She wasn’t jealous of the guys-not really. She just didn’t want to see bitch one and two get their claws in them. Not possessive, merely competitive.

When Alec walked into the living room, she frowned at the paleness of his face. “Want some hot chocolate?”

“Thank you, cariad, but I’m not hungry.” He dropped onto the couch across from her chair. The laughter that always lurked in his eyes had disappeared completely.

He’d called her cariad. Darling. She hugged the knowledge to herself. “Alec, you’re exhausted. I can wait.”

With an attempted smile, he shook his head. “I won’t be able to sleep for a while, and I’d enjoy your company. Calum said you had questions and weren’t happy with his answers?”

Her anger rose again. “He wasn’t making any sense at all.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Why isn’t someone tracking this…feral person? I asked him to loan me a rifle, and he said no. And that he wasn’t sending a hunting party out.”

“Ah.” Alec scrubbed his face with his hands. “Some of our traditions come down from the Fae.”

Here we go with the traditions again. “And?”

“The Fae used bows and arrows only when hunting game.” He moved his shoulders. “Sometimes humans too.”

“I’m not getting this.”

“Fae fought other Fae hand-to-hand or with knives. Bow and arrows-basically, long-distance weapons-were only used on animals.”

“Oh.” Vic frowned. “So shifters don’t use guns or arrows on other shifters.”

“Exactly.”

“And a hunting party? You don’t do that either?”

“If needed. But cahirs only.”

Another fucking new word. She glared at him.

His lips twitched. “Sorry. We still use some bastardized Gaelic and Welsh from the old days.” He gazed at the woodstove. Behind the glass door, a salamander, scales brilliant as the flames, spun in circles. “Cahir are those chosen to defend the clan. You’d say maybe warrior? Protector?”

Soldier. And Calum had said to Alec, “I’m sorry, cahir.” Alec was a cahir. “Your God supposedly gave Calum power-powers-whatever. Does a cahir get anything?” she asked only half-sarcastically, for she’d felt that power in Calum, as if a fucking current of electricity had hummed through him.

“Anything?” Alec’s finger traced the blue-tinted scar high on his left cheekbone. “A couple more inches in height, muscle, strength. All at once. I was a cop and in good shape, but I spent the next twenty-four hours puking my guts up and trying not to scream like a girl.” Despite his light tone, his eyes held the memory of some serious agony.

Nasty. “Are you the only cahir around?”

“We have four in the North Cascades since we’re fairly isolated. Rainier is fighting hellhounds and have seven or eight.”

Hellhounds. Not gonna visit that subject right now. As she studied Alec, her mouth tightened. She’d already known, there in Helen’s house. The blood on him hadn’t come from hunting any deer. She’d recognized that soul-weary look; she’d seen it in her own mirror. “You killed the feral, didn’t you?”

He nodded.

That’s why Helen had thanked him. “So the attacker is a shifter who went crazy. And you can’t…uh, treat them or something?”

“No. There’s no return once the door is shut.”

“Door?”

“At the cabin, we told you about a portal in your mind-the one you open to trawsfur.” In the lantern light, his eyes shone the green of deep forest.

“Well”-she smiled in relief-“there’s no door in my head.”

“Close your eyes and look around. It’s kinda in the back somewhere. Glows just a tad.” His expression held a challenge she couldn’t refuse.

She shut her eyes. Yeah, okay, it was dark. Everything was black. She pretended her gaze turned in a circle, from the front around to the… Oh, shit. Her spine stiffened like someone had yelled, Attention!

“Yeah. Thought so,” Alec murmured.

“Oh. My. God.” Her eyes opened and she glared. “There is a fucking door-thing in my brain.”

He tried to smile, but she could see how much of an effort it was.

Another realization twisted her guts. “Did you know him? The feral?” she asked softly.

He nodded. “Fergus taught me to hunt when I was growing up.”

Oh, God, there was no comfort to be offered here. ‘To the legion of the lost ones, to the cohort of the damned.’ Vic moved to sit beside him, taking his hand between hers. “He was older?”

His fingers curled around hers as if to a lifeline. “About Aaron’s age. He’d never lifemated anyone, and his only family, a littermate, died last week.”

“Are you saying he wasn’t mentally ill? Depression made him go feral?”

Alec kissed her fingers and enfolded her hand in his. “If a shifter has no loved ones or family, no ties to pull him back to the human side, then some turn, and unfortunately, loneliness and grief warps them, driving them to mindlessly attack.”

Holy fuck. Fear shot straight to her insides and clung there, claws digging in deep. She didn’t have any family. No loved ones. So if she shifted, she might not come back. Helen must have known Fergus too-and he’d savaged the sweet woman. She shivered.

“Vicki, it’s not really-”

“Oh hey,” she said. “I’m supposed to help Heather make cookies.” She rose and smiled down at him, her heart aching as if she’d already decided. “I’ll bring you back some sweets.”

After helping Heather bake, Vic had been dragged away by Jamie to play cut-throat Monopoly with her friends. Vic had gone bankrupt, and she wasn’t sure if she was pissed-off at losing so badly or proud of the munchkin for doing so well. “You have a head for business, kid,” she told Jamie on the way back to Aaron’s.

“I know.” She gave Vic a smug look. “Daddy’s teaching me to do the books for the tavern.”

“Ugh. Better you than me.” She’d rather fight a nice bloody battle any day. In the house, she stopped, staring across the room.

Sarah sat beside Alec on the small couch-where he and Vic had talked earlier. Cleavage was snuggled up to him so closely she was almost on his lap. Her dark head rested on his shoulder as they talked together in low voices.

Vic swallowed and followed Jamie to the kitchen where Aaron had his hands deep in bread dough.

“Where’s Daddy?” Jamie asked, snatching a tiny piece of dough and stuffing it into her mouth.

Aaron pulled the ball of dough closer to him and continued kneading. “Gretchen came to get him a while back. They haven’t returned.”

Vic’s lungs weren’t getting enough air, and her hands felt colder now than they had outside. “Why don’t you stay and help Aaron, Jamie? I’m going to take a break.”

“Sure.”

Vic ruffled Jamie’s hair and left the room. Okay then. Apparently that was that. Her decision was made.

So why didn’t she feel good about it?