Shepherd's Moon (35 page)

May as well get this show on the road…

My leg ached. It had been far too long of a day, and twenty-four hours felt like it had turned into forty-eight. I propped it up on the large pine coffee table as the cubs jumped up next to me. Any other day and I would have just gotten one of Bren’s injections, but Bren wasn’t here. It would be better if I would stop getting injured, but that didn’t seem likely in this line of work.

The recessed lights infused the room with a pale glow, and if I weren’t due to Skype the other territory Shepherds, I would have just put on some relaxing music and enjoyed the peace and quiet while I cuddled with the young jaguars. Just being around the animals calmed me, and having them finally relaxed and purring made me feel just a little more in control. It was the one place I belonged, with the animals — not on the streets chasing monsters or in a conference with a bunch of men who spent their days playing dominance games with one another.

Unfortunately, attendance wasn’t optional at these meetings and I needed some guidance. If Diego really was back, they would know what to do and with any luck, the other members may know something about Parallax that I hadn’t gleaned from the detailed file that Cassie had given me, or the minimal amount of research I’d conducted on my own.

I had a few minutes yet, so I leaned my head back against the chair and allowed myself to savor another minute or two of peace and quiet. In the last four days, I’d captured two rogue Newborns and three shifters that I couldn’t read, adopted a new member into my pack, nearly lost Modnik, and partnered up with a Nephilim.

Even for me, it had been a busy week…

Sighing, I stiffly reached over my leg and logged into the laptop, then dialed the conference meeting, entered the PIN, and directed the call to the 3D screen.

The 65'' monitor didn’t seem large enough once the three other Council members joined the call. Each of the members displayed in boxes on the screen. Victor Monroe, Shepherd of the Central territory was brought front and center while streaming video of the remaining Councilmen and myself were sent to the side of the screen in smaller boxes. Once I saw myself on the screen, I realized how terrible I actually looked and immediately regretted not coming up with some sort of excuse for not attending. My arm still looked raw and swollen despite the super-fast vamp blood I’d been given earlier in the week, which for all intents and purposes, should still be working. My face was still bruised, and even my hair didn’t look right since Brock had insisted on putting ice on my scalp. With my leg bandaged and elevated, I looked like something the cubs had dragged into the yard after a hunting trip. The image put me in an even worse mood and made me hate conference calls all the more. Any other day and I would have still made an attempt at cleaning myself up, but at the moment, I was just too tired to care.

Victor raised his gray eyebrows in a silent question, averting his eyes after I shook my head, and then officially began the meeting.

“Thank you for joining us this evening. Let the record show that I am bringing this meeting to order at twenty-one hundred hours, Central Standard Time. In attendance are myself, Victor Monroe, Shepherd of the Central territories; Adolfo del Sue, a Shepherd of the Southern territories; Caleb Robideux, Shepherd of the Northeast territories; Clint Staley, Shepherd of the Pacific Northwest territories; and Alexandra McCallister, Shepherd of the Southwestern territories.”

Formalities out of the way, he glanced down at the meeting agenda, a copy of which was also displayed on the screen.

“Beyond the usual fare on our agenda tonight is a special request for assistance from our Southwestern Shepherd. May I suggest we begin with this request?”

Vic’s a good guy. Having grown up in the Midwest, he’s always had a relaxed, no-nonsense attitude that was occasionally abrasive when he was trying to get his point across. Known for “telling it how it is”, he didn’t let others’ opinions get to him. His days were spent throwing hay onto the back of a pickup and riding herd over his mares, horse shifters who preferred the great plains of Nebraska. He loved being outdoors and hated being bothered with mundane things. He had a gift for putting people at ease, as he was kind and even-tempered. I’ve always liked him, and while he didn’t really understand how a woman my age had come to be a Shepherd, he supported me. His territory covered the area from North Dakota to Kansas, all the way to Ohio — a region close to the size of my territory.

“Thank you, Victor,” I said, in a voice as professional and cordial as I could pull off. “Gentlemen, as you can see from the pictures I’m forwarding, we’ve had some problems of late.” I moused through the photos of the strays we’d rounded up as I explained our latest problems with the strays, being careful not to mention any theories I was currently exploring on cloning. “Tissue samples were sent to our lab for inclusion in the ELO immediately upon capture. And I would like permission to access the database to review the results.”

ELO was short for the Encyclopedia of Life — a database that Shepherds had updated religiously since the beginning of time. Not only did it hold our complete history, it was the place we stored the names, locations, and profiles of every creature we had ever captured, domesticated or executed. Once a creature caused a problem, we had a record of them. We cataloged every known statistic: habitat, diet, method of capture, known associates… just about everything we could think to include.

There were people who would pay a lot of money for that type of information, assuming they knew it even existed, but its secret was closely guarded. With this database, we could track known Handlers, monitor territories, identify strays, catalog kills, and, when necessary, thin the population if it grew too thick in a certain region. Nowadays if a specific pack became careless or dangerous, its key members would be relocated to other territories, but it wasn’t too long ago that packs were being thinned by other methods. The Council members had called a halt to that type of practice long before I came on board.

The ELO helped keep the problems at bay, but even Council members were unable to gain access to its information without approval from the entire Council. In this case, I was hoping we could use it to track the identity of the other rogues in an effort to locate a pattern that would lead back to Parallax.

“What reason would you have to require access to their profiles, Alejandra? The ELO is not a tool of entertainment.” Adolfo’s thick Cuban accent rang out over the speakers. His voice betrayed the edge of a deep-rooted anger he’d nursed over the past year. He’s always had a problem with me being a Shepherd, just as he had a problem with any female in a station at or above his own. Knowing this, I had deliberately avoided paying him a courtesy call when we were returning from Central America with a heavily-pregnant, easily irritated Modnik. Adolfo’s territory spread from Florida to Texas, and all the way North into the Carolinas, so we had also neglected telling him that we were crossing through six of his states. It had been my first social faux pas as a Shepherd, and I didn’t think it would be my last.

In the end, it had been a decision that cost me both personally and professionally. Adolfo had been around for many generations, his family before him had been one of the first Shepherds in North America, and he lived by the old ways.

At the time, I had known it was customary to notify a Shepherd if I planned on entering their territory. Particularly when I was relocating a shifter. Notification is the best way to avoid a territorial dispute. Permission is almost always given, so there was no reason not to notify Adolfo other than we were in a hurry and I knew Adolfo would drag the entire process out for days.

We had not only neglected to tell Adolfo that we were crossing his territory, but we had neglected to mention we were coming through international borders with a pregnant jaguar — a jaguar we had taken her from his brother’s territory in Costa Rica…

Mea culpa, mea culpa.

Had it not been for Caleb’s calm intervention and my own inexperience, the outcome would have been much different.

Unfortunately, Adolfo and his family carried a grudge. As beautiful as Costa Rica had been, I didn’t see a possibility of returning there in this lifetime. So far, there hadn’t been a reason for me to enter Adolfo’s territory again, but if I ever needed too, it would be Caleb who would handle the negotiations. He’s the consummate politician, his sandy blonde hair and blue eyes made even the toughest woman fall in love with him when he stood at a podium giving a speech, and his relaxed, friendly attitude kept the men from feeling threatened in tough Council meetings.

“Our goal in accessing this information is to identify possible clones in our specific region,” I answered. “We believe we have located the company responsible for creating these animals, and it is our hope we will prove it with the data from the ELO.”

I glanced at Caleb on the screen in a silent plea for support. Politics were not my strong point, and while I could probably drive over to South Florida and kick Adolfo’s ass, I couldn’t out-politic him.

The corner of Caleb’s mouth tipped up slightly, as he cleared his throat, hiding a smile at my silent plea. “I think we can all agree that it’s our personal and professional responsibility to ensure that not only our animals are kept safe, but that our territories provide safe sanctuary for humans and animals alike; is it not, Adolfo?”

With a quick wink, he waited for the Cuban’s reluctant nod. And just like that, Caleb had steered the conversation back on track. I smiled gratefully at him as he continued on.

“In her report, Alexandra mentioned several recent events in her region…” He glanced through his notes; searching for the facts I had emailed over. “Ah, yes. Here it is. Three panthers, one vampire, and one domestic cat. Hmmm. Quite unusual, the domestic cat…”

Closing the file, he moved the small reading glasses from his eyes to the end of his nose and peered over them. “What do you make of this situation, Alexandra?”

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. I had neglected to include Daniel’s DNA in the samples I sent over, and had made no mention that Daniel was a chimera — nor did I have any intention of doing so until I knew more about him myself. While I had no problem concealing information from Adolfo, I was uncomfortable omitting information to Caleb.

“At this point in the investigation, we’re focusing on a lead with the Parallax Corporation. There is evidence that some of these Weres may have had an association with the group.”

“What type of evidence?” Adolfo challenged with the look of a predator on a hunt.

“Besides a prior history of animal cruelty?” I said sharply.

Caleb shot a warning glance at me. “Alexandra has also provided witness reports. In this particular case, the witness is a domestic cat belonging to a former employee of Parallax.”

“That’s little more than a coincidence, Alejandra.” The heavyset Cuban wheezed loudly. “Certainly not enough to form an investigative committee or open the ELO.”

Victor leaned slightly forward in his chair. “Alexandra, why don’t you take a moment to elaborate on your position?” His voice was gentle, but I knew how tough Victor could be.

“The Parallax connection is really all we’ve been able to find. Each of the Newborns we tracked was without a Handler, none were registered, and all were located within the city of the Parallax facility. The domestic was discovered in the home of a retired Parallax scientist.” I waited, hoping for a reaction at the news, but there was none and so I continued on. “Both cougars were found on the ASU campus, within a quarter mile of one of their research facilities. In addition, we’ve just learned that the Were who murdered his family was employed by Parallax. Since we’ve found nothing else that the victims had in common, the Parallax connection is all we have to go on.”

Caleb nodded. “Questions?”

The Shepherds on the screen shook their heads, as the new information sunk in.

“Then, I have something to add,” Caleb continued. “The samples that you sent over have been analyzed and there was a discrepancy in the data.” He glanced at the report. “Apparently, the samples were each identical. Are you able to collect new samples for analysis?”

I shook my head, wondering how much information to reveal. They hadn’t heard about the possibility of clones running around yet, and I was still debating on whether I should share the information with them.

“I gathered it myself, Caleb.” It was protocol for the Shepherd to be the only one who collected samples in order to guard against this very thing. I may be tired, but I would never break this rule.

Withholding critical information that would make this conversation move along easier was apparently something I had no problem doing.

Caleb spoke after a long moment. “Is it possible we’re dealing with twins?”

“No,” I said quietly. “Twins share the same DNA, but the epigenetic markers are different.” The tests we use are extensive enough to show the differences, and the lab technicians are very aware of what to look for in the event of twins.