Shepherd's Moon (22 page)

I cleared my throat. “Hello, Daniel.”

He still looked like a frightened feral cat ready to bolt at the slightest noise. “Would you like to sit?” Half afraid to move, I motioned slowly to the sofa.

He hesitated, clearly debating whether flight may indeed be a better option. Finally he won his internal conflict and sat uncomfortably on the sofa.

I pressed the intercom button on my desk and asked whoever was there to bring us some hot tea.

Daniel was obviously struggling with the switch to being human and looked as though he would have been more comfortable perched on the arm of the sofa, four legs solidly tucked beneath him. He wore polyester trousers that were clearly too large for him and a misbuttoned shirt with a sweater pulled over it. Jace would be appalled at the fashion faux-pas but I could already picture his excitement at the make-over possibilities.

“Since you’re alone, I’m guessing that Meg is no longer with us.” No point in beating around the bush.

He nodded. “This morning, the police came. I stayed as long as I could, but they tried to take me away again.” The look on his face was one of abject disappointment, as if the world had failed him but that he had expected nothing more from life.

It was the same look of dejection and disappointment that I had seen on all of our new arrivals. In Daniel’s case, it was taken one step further as he was so obviously uncomfortable in his human skin. I heaved a sigh, knowing the discomfort was a result of spending far too much time in his animal form.

“You remembered how to find me,” I said softly.

“I don’t know how that happened,” he said. “I ran from my house and found your house.”

“I sort of …
placed
… the directions in your mind.” I shrugged. “It was easier than writing it down and you didn’t exactly have a way to carry a map around.”

Daniel sat stiff and silent on the coffee-colored leather sofa looking as uncomfortable as I’ve seen anyone look. I knelt on the floor and slowly moved towards the couch where I could rest my arm on the coffee table without spooking him. He watched me without uttering a word.

I didn’t push him. When it comes to cats, I’ve learned that occasionally silence is a much more effective method of communication than speech. It would be easier to invade his mind, but I abstained out of respect. Right now, it was enough that he was here.

Moments later, Brock knocked on the open door, shattering the silence. Daniel startled, but remained sitting, so I nodded for Brock to enter with a quick nod.

He spoke softly, picking up on the fact that Daniel was terrified. “Aida was busy.”

I took the pot of water from him. “Daniel, would you like something to drink?”

The poor guy even looked conflicted about that small decision. Rather than wait for his answer, I balanced a strainer over each cup, catching the loose tea leaves as I poured hot water over them.

The ritual gave me a way to stall as I waited for the cat to be more at ease. This was part of the procedure of welcoming a new member—they had to enter on their terms — and Daniel’s terms seemed to be patience.

We all waited in uncomfortable silence as I busied myself with the addition of sugar to my own cup and bypassing it altogether for his — Weres and shifters, with the exception of Billy, generally don’t like anything sweet. Passing the cup to him, I held it out patiently as he focused on balancing the liquid. Reaching for the other two cups, I passed one to Brock, despite his inherent dislike of tea, and raised my eyebrows in a silent question as he took it from me. I nodded and he sat down in an overstuffed chair away from Daniel so as not to further frighten the cat, and silently appraised the situation.

The situation as I saw it was that I had a choice: Either get the chimera talking or call it a night…

Rather than address the frightened cat, I addressed Brock instead. “Daniel will be staying with us.”

Daniel lifted his head to stare at me, obviously surprised. I continued on, “Can you arrange a place for him in the guest room near Jace? And be sure Jace gives him a tour.”

Brock raised an eyebrow, “You sure you want him around Jace?”

I shook my head, smiling. Brock was so homophobic, I wasn’t sure how he could stand to be here most of the time.

“Yes Brock, I’m sure.” I flashed him a cautionary glance.

“Who is Jace?” Daniel asked.

I interrupted Brock before he could respond, my eyes reflecting a sharp warning. “Jace is a very nice horse shifter who will be helping you to adjust. He and Aida, who is our other wolf, help take care of us all, and one of their jobs is to get everyone settled in. If you need anything and I’m not here, you can talk to either of them. But, everyone will be happy to help you around here.”
And if they weren’t, I’d know the reason why…

Brock cleared his throat and leaned forward. “I could take him around to meet everyone. He might get along well with the twins.”

“Good,” I said brightly, noticing we now had his full attention. “Would you like to meet Pasha and Tau?”

He cast a blank stare at me, not knowing if he wanted to meet them or not.

“Sorry,” I amended. “They’re both jaguars—twins actually. They’re very young, so they haven’t learned to shift yet.”

Daniel was young even by my standards. Pasha and Tau would love him — anything they could turn into a toy was a good thing right now and the interaction just may give Modnik a much-needed break.

Assuming she would take one.

“I think you’ll like them.”

He nodded shyly, but allowed his long blonde hair to fall over his face, hiding his eyes.

“Can you tell me about yourself?” I asked.

He stared at me nervously.
Strike one, a swing and a miss…

“Okay. No pressure. How about you tell me what happened to Meg?”

Again, mute silence.
One strike away; nothing and two…

“Would you like me to tell you about us?” I asked cautiously.

The hint of a smile crossed his face, and he leaned forward.
Swing and a long drive—and it’s outta here.
I cast a victorious glance at Brock, he smiled sharing my victory.

“I’m called a Shepherd, and I help people like you. My family has done it for years — long before I was born. But now I do it. Consider all of us a type of… rescue.”

“The others — they’re like me?” he asked tentatively.

“Yes, of course.” I glanced up at the ceiling as I considered the question. “Let’s see, Brock here and Aida have wolves as their animals to call. Billy has the coyote. Of course, there’s the family of jaguars I mentioned, and Jace is the horseshifter. You’ll meet Bren sooner or later, and he’s a vampire that feeds on electricity. And there are others — pack members who come and stay for a while, then move on.”

“Are you able to assume forms other than a domestic?” Brock asked.

I flashed a warning look at my wolf. He knew better than to ask something like that. This poor kid didn’t even know what he was or that there were others like him. He didn’t need to be asked a question so personal.

As predicted, the question caught Daniel off guard and he glanced expectantly at me. “There’s a choice?”

“It’s rare. Very rare, but there have been cases of shifters who can choose forms. They’re called chimeras.”

Daniel stood and moved towards the map that covered the entire back wall of my office. He tentatively reached out to touch the variety of different thumbtack colors that embellished the wall and despite my declaration of staying out of his head, I picked up on his question.

“They each mean different things,” I explained. Snapping the psychic barrier back in place, I stood next to Daniel. “Each color represents a species of shifter or were.”

“What does blue mean?”

“Wolf,” I answered calmly, suddenly noticing the proliferation of blue tacks on the wall. “In their case, each tack represents a registered pack.”

“What color is cat?”

I reached into the drawer and pulled out two yellow tacks, one for Daniel and one for Tristan’s partner, then walked to the map and placed them into the Arizona region with the three that were already there. “Panthers and felines are yellow.” The tacks were scattered throughout the North America, then melted into denser regions throughout South America and Africa. “Of course, that doesn’t break them out into genus or species.”

Daniel relaxed as he lightly fingered the string that separated the Shepherd’s territories. “And these…”

“Territories. Each Shepherd has a specific region to manage. I’m the Shepherd for the Western U.S.”

I swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. I had a territory. This region was mine—to manage as I saw fit. Each of the creatures that reside in the Southwest was my responsibility, and all I could do these days was whine about how put upon I was…

It was time for a change.

“Do you understand what I do, Daniel?”

“You read minds.”

“Only the minds of animals,” I smiled. “And only their dominant thoughts. Do you remember when we met and how you shifted back to human?”

“You helped me remember.” His voice was suddenly hoarse. “But I don’t remember how I got this way,” he said softly.

I glanced back at Brock who was listening carefully to every word. “You mentioned that before. That tells me something happened to you, something your mind is protecting you from.”

He nodded, appearing a little more at ease with the situation.

I smiled and leaned over a bit closer to him. “Later on, maybe you could let me help you remember what happened?”

He hesitated before answering, obviously weighing the benefits of allowing me to examine his thoughts. “Maybe it’s something I shouldn’t remember.”

“Maybe,” I agreed. He was far more perceptive than I gave him credit for. “Even so, it may be important.”

He stared at the wood floors and considered my words a moment before nodding. “I’d like to try.”

I relaxed and placed my hand around his arm to guide him back to the desk. At the touch, his thoughts rolled over me, images of Meg, the scent of Brock standing next to him. I blinked in surprise.

This was new…

When my psychic wall is in place, I have to make a concerted effort to read animals. And it’s even more difficult when they are in human form. I should not have been catching glimpses of Daniel’s thoughts unless I tried. I didn’t know him well enough to
accidentally
read his thoughts—that was something I could only do with Billy and on rare occasions, Brock. And it was only because I had spent nearly every waking moment with one or the other of them since I was a child.

Yet, I was picking up Daniel’s memories as clearly as if I were with him when they had occurred, like some kind of fly on the wall. Brock watched me, sensing that something was up.

Hesitantly, I reached out to touch Daniel again, then closed my eyes letting the images roll over me in a chaotic rush.

An image of a large building with walls extending upwards into the sky appeared. The building was surrounded with chain link fencing topped with rolls of barbed wire. The image was seen as if he were looking behind him, like someone or something was chasing him.

Heavily armed men appeared, merging into the desert floor in camouflaged fatigues like militaristic ants. The night was fast approaching, and the men called out to one another with quiet little signals, taking shots at me as I ran.

A shiver rolled down my spine and I lifted my hand from Daniel’s, severing the connection. I could still taste the terror in the air, and that never happened. What was this guy’s fear-based life really about?

Taking a moment to calm myself, I slowly opened my eyes to find Brock and Daniel staring at me curiously.

“Sorry,” I apologized. “It’s been a long day. I guess I’m a little tired.”

“You okay?” Brock asked, seeing that I was visibly shaken.

I nodded, a little uncertainly. “Go with Brock, Daniel. He’ll show you around and we’ll have breakfast tomorrow.”

Brock glanced at me, concerned, but I just waved him off, “I’m just tired. It’s fine.”

As they left the office, I sat back down at the desk and sketched the image of the building I had seen in Daniel’s thoughts. I didn’t know what it meant, had no idea if was even important, but I was in the habit of taking notes.

And old habits die hard.

The next morning, I lay awake in bed staring at the iron ceiling fan that was designed to look like giant palm fronds and awaited the loud buzz of the alarm. It’s a habit I never lost even when Isabo and Joseph passed — that flat refusal to get out of bed before the alarm sounded. Finally the clock’s scarlet digital numbers shifted and the quiet stillness was shattered. Slamming the button, I turned it off, chastising myself again for not just getting my butt out of bed when I awoke. The random noise only served to put me in a foul mood each morning, but then again, given my occupation, that could be a good thing. I braced myself for the inevitable chill and swung my feet to the frigid tile floor. One of these days, I would need to invest in a rug.

The windows were still open from the previous evening and the cold morning air now settled itself around me as I inhaled deeply. The sun had not yet started peeking through the clouds and eerie shadows flitted over the desert landscape.