Timeless Moon

Josette Monier
stood
motionless in the faint moonlight beneath the spreading limbs of an ancient hickory. It was spring in Arizona, and the field smelled of moist earth and fresh new growth. But even at night there should be sounds
—the fluttering of birds in the trees, or mice moving through the thick tufts of grass. Instead, there was nothing but the rustling of tiny new leaves. The small animals were utterly still and she knew why. They were hoping that remaining quiet would keep them from drawing the attention of the killer in their midst.

It was not
her
they feared right now, although she was frequently a danger to them. No, something else had made them afraid.
Josette
turned her head, straining as hard as she could to catch any hint of the other predator hunting this night.

There, she heard it. There was no mistaking the soft rasp of scales moving across stone. She was in human form, but her senses were no less keen. Tilting her head back she sniffed the breeze. Even over the scents of soil and wildflowers she could smell the musty, acrid bitterness that was a venomous snake. But this was not just any snake
—certainly not one of
the native rattlesnakes that made their home in the area. No, there was a subtle difference to the smell that told her this reptile could claim more than one form. He was a shapeshifter like her and probably a Sazi.

It seemed odd that she hadn't known ahead of time she would be attacked out here. Usually, her psychic gifts gave her plenty of warning of such things.

Maybe I've become just as arrogant as my attackers, thinking my visions will tell me everything I need to know.
Stupid pride. She was lucky it hadn't gotten her killed before now.

Soft and silent she moved across the sand, deliberately leaving human footprints until she reached a small rock outcropping, where she started removing her clothing.

It would be nice if I could just burn them off with magic like normal, but I can't afford for him to catch the scent of the smoke.
She shifted form until, with a whisper of motion, she became a bobcat. She could fight a snake in either form, but it was easier with teeth and claws, and her feline shape was easier to camouflage in the night. Let him look for the human on the other side of the rock. He would find another predator instead.

Moving with graceful economy, she used her claws to climb into the wide lower branches of the tree. She lay in the shadows, nearly undetected from the ground below
—even to the cautious tongue of a snake—and
planned her attack. A viper was a real threat, because while it took lethal damage to both head and heart to kill an alpha shapeshifter, the venom of most Sazi snakes was potent enough to do just that.

Silvered grass shifted with a rustle of sound below. She felt her pupils widen to pull in light from the moon and watched to see if she could spot the sort of snake she was dealing with. Not that she really needed the light
…
she was a cat, after all. Her night vision was excellent. But the fact that he was in snake form told her he was also an alpha, capable of changing at will using just his own personal magic. And all of the alpha snakes she'd encountered had their own peculiar ways of fighting, depending on the species.

Her enemies always sent their best after her. It was almost flattering. For the assassins, themselves, it was at the same tune an honor and a punishment. They knew that, should they succeed, they
—or their family if they died in the process—would receive untold wealth. But it was equally well known that no one, thus far, had survived an attempt. She was still alive, despite their regular attempts to kill her over hundreds of years. The prospect had to be daunting.

She stilled, waiting and watching as the movement in the grass stopped. The snake's head lifted slightly, until its blunt nose was barely visible. Oblong pupils, opened to their fullest point, scanned the area as its tongue flicked out, searching for her scent.

Josette
stared at the pattern of scales on the visible portion of the snake's head and body. Her ears twitched a bit in surprise. She had expected an asp or a cobra, one of the Middle Eastern snakes that had always hunted her before. But the pattern of dark brown and black splotches on the snake's body was unmistakable, even if she hadn't seen the multiple rattles on its tail. A rattlesnake native to either Central or South America was stalking her.

But I don't have any enemies in either of those places
…
that I know of.
She'd never been to the southern continent. But vivid images of the jungles and rain forests there had dominated many of her recent visions, causing her to read up on the region.

Unless
…
There was always the possibility of a killer for hire. Zealots fought with a hot passion to their last breath, almost embracing their chance for martyrdom. A professional, however, would approach the situation very differently. Judging by the one assassin she'd met personally, this contest could be all cold logic and skill. Tony Giodone was an attack victim. He had never planned to be either a werewolf or a seer, but he was dealing with it admirably and she respected his resourcefulness and attention to detail.

She'd best assume the snake below her would have similar traits.

Who sent you?
Josette
peered down at the reptile sliding in near silence through the tufts of dried grass
between the stones. He wasn't big by Sazi standards. But size wasn't everything.

Adrenaline pounded through her veins, leaving a metallic taste in her mouth, making it hard to think. She took a deep breath, gathered her will, and concentrated as she waited for the snake to move forward once again. Her hindquarters began to sway from side to side slightly as she gauged the distance and planned her jump.

The viper's head dropped from sight, and she saw the grass shifting. He was moving away, circling around, hoping to cut her off and meet her face-to-face. He must have caught her scent. She waited until he was just past the tree's trunk, facing away from her. With the power of her mind she froze him in place. He couldn't move, could barely expand his body enough to breathe.

Josette
leaped down from the tree, landing just behind the last button rattle. She felt him struggle against her magic, his power flaring with white-hot intensity, as he fought against her with everything he had. It was nearly enough to break her hold. For just an instant she saw the powerful body start to move
…
to turn and strike.

A sharp hiss escaped her lips as she felt a second power join his, emanating from within him. For the first time in many years her power was thrown to the side. Her ears flattened, eyes narrowing in pure instinctive rage. She leaped sideways, out of reach at
the same time that she clamped down hard with her mind, using fierce effort.

The snake's body slowed mid-strike. He was suspended in midair, his muscles straining, jaws opened wide to reveal wicked fangs. The enraged red-gold eyes had an almost physical weight to them.

Josette
backed carefully around him, always keeping those eyes, those fangs, in sight. He'd been strong, much stronger than she'd expected. Last winter, the leader of
all
the snakes, had not had the power to break free of her grasp the way this man could. This assassin, and whoever was aiding him, was a force to be reckoned with.

She circled slowly until she stood just behind his head. The snake's eyes rolled backward as he tried to watch her, tension singing through his taut muscles as he fought with renewed strength against the mental bonds that pinned him. He smelled both angry and pleased, which confused her.

But then a panicked alto voice sounded in Josette's mind through the connection she'd forged with the male snake.
My love, tell her nothing. You must say
nothing,
or all will be lost.
The words were in Spanish, but she could understand them as though she spoke the language.

"Who are you working for?"
Josette
leaned forward, opening her jaws to grasp his spine at a point just behind his head. She closed her jaws slightly, squeezing just hard enough for him to know she
could
sever his head, but not hard enough to actually do so. Still, the bitter taste of blood and flesh filled her mouth, the rough textures of scale and bone grated against her tongue.

The snake winced in pain, but gave a small hissing laugh that told her questioning him further would be useless. And unfortunately, any attempt to pull the information from his brain with her mind would just destroy it. She had no talent for that sort of thing, unlike her younger sister Fiona.

Abruptly, a flood of images filled her mind, rolling from his thoughts to hers like a movie played on fast-forward: a jungle, the air thick enough to drink, the dense foliage passable in human form only with the liberal use of a machete. She could hear birds and animals moving through the dense undergrowth as she followed a guide down a barely visible path
—

The snake panicked, and the burst of adrenaline gave him the sudden strength to break the mental bonds that held him.
Josette
let out a high-pitched, rolling growl, trying to tighten her physical grip, but he pulled strength from outside himself. She saw an image of a tiny woman with dark hair and liquid brown eyes, her body compact, muscular, but with soft curves that camouflaged a cold, calculating mind. The perfect oval of her face was superimposed over the image of Josette's own bedroom
—the contents of which were tossed about from a hasty search. The woman looked up, and her face zoomed into
sharper focus in front of a scene showing hundreds, even thousands of other snakes converging on an ancient temple in the middle of a jungle.

There was a surge of magic as the snakes somehow added to the power of the one under her. The scent of a hundred bodies, thick sweat, and a powerful metallic chemical filled her nose. He lunged hard against the iron grip of Josette's teeth and slammed his tail into the side of her head, throwing her nearly a yard away. Rattles sizzling angrily, he spun around and shot toward her before she could shake the cobwebs from her head. His scent had moved to confidence, and she had no doubt that the smell of worry had started to fill her own pores.