Twelfth Moon (24 page)

When he reached the door, he stopped, focusing all his concentration on his human form. It took a few minutes, but he was finally able to change, his naked body covered in sweat from the effort it took. Each time he made the transformation, it sapped his energy, leaving him out of breath, shaking, and sweating.

He opened the unlocked door, relieved, yet at the same time, alarmed that they could be so careless. Slipping inside, he quickly changed back into the panther. It was easier than holding his human form and it angered him all over again that he was now like her – a freak of nature. An abomination.

He crouched on all four paws, trembling. Staying alert, his ears flicked and adjusted as he listened to the subtle sounds of the house – listened for any sign that his entrance had been noted. While he waited for the surge of strength he knew would come after the transformation, he thought back to that first time it had happened.

Jonah had been only one day out from the Apache camp where he’d left Cadence, feeling a mixture of guilt and remorse over leaving her. And there was something else, too – something he didn’t want to face. He hadn’t been able to shake the aggravating emotions that roiled relentlessly through him like crows pecking at a dead man’s eyes. Should he keep going? Should he go back for her? It was enough to drive a man loco. Disgusted with himself, he’d tried to shove those thoughts away. His doubts could only make him weak. Out here, such a lack of concentration could get him killed.

Then Athos suddenly reared, throwing Jonah from the saddle to land in a breath-sucking lump in the dust. Shock and the absence of air in his lungs held him immobile for several seconds.
Damn it to hell
. He hadn’t lost his seat like that since he was a small lad first learning to ride. If it hadn’t been so painful – and if what happened next hadn’t completely distracted him, he would have taken the time to feel embarrassed.

Pain exploded in his entire body, starting from his center, flowing outward to his limbs. It felt as though every bone in his body was breaking. Muscle and sinew stretched and snapped, re-forming him into something else. He choked, making a raw, inarticulate sound, and rolled onto his hands and knees. He blew air hot as Hell’s inferno through his widening nostrils. Arching his spine, he panted in agony, violently trembling. His clothes were ripped from his body. His silver-spurred boots slipped off feet that were no longer able to fit in them.

Then, in a flash, the pain was gone and Jonah’s vision was sharper, his hearing and sense of smell more acute. Blinking his eyes, he looked down and saw that his hands were great paws covered in black shiny fur. His head was spinning and he felt nauseous from the intense overload to his senses. His sides heaved, his ribs expanding with each deep breath, and he let out an angry roar.

Athos snorted, nervously sidestepping away, his hide flicking, eyes wide and white with fear. But, strangely he didn’t go far. The loyal horse had stayed with his master, even though instinct had to have warned him to run. Maybe some inner sense told him the big cat was still partly human.

Jonah moved to lay in the shade of some scrubby bushes and rested quietly. He puzzled over his bizarre predicament, while Athos kept his distance. He needed to figure out how to change back into his human form so he could ride Athos. He wasn’t going to leave his horse behind. Cadence had been able to change into the panther and back again, so why couldn’t he?

He’d spent all day trying to change, tired and hungry and thirsty, the effort draining his strength, the hot sun making him irritable. But he didn’t give up. He strained, thinking it out, until eventually, he discovered if he visualized himself as a man, and held that image in his mind long enough, the change would occur. The thing that was so maddening was that he could only hold his human form for short periods of time. Because of that, it had taken him longer to reach New Orleans than it would normally have done.

Whenever Jonah looked back on that moment, he remembered how quickly it had come upon him. There were no symptoms, no warnings – just one minute he was a man – the next he was a panther. And he cursed Cadence with every breath he took.

She was going to pay dearly for what she’d done to him.

Feeling strong enough to continue his hunt, Jonah moved stealthily through the house, not making a sound, his tail swishing back and forth from his coiled tension.

He took the stairs quickly and silently, stopping on the landing to sniff the air. She was to the right and down the hall, in the room at the end. As he neared the door to her room, he noted the scent of the other occupants in the house – Cadence’s two sisters and her father, he presumed, as well as two others. He could even hear their breathing. What he found odd was that he barely detected Cadence’s. Why was that?

He entered her room, his heart pumping madly with anticipation, and looked toward the bed. There was a small bundle lying still as a cadaver beneath the quilt. The curtains were drawn back, allowing hazy moonlight in, and as he moved closer, he could see her face clearly.

But looking at the gaunt angles of her pale face, he was shocked to realize she was near death – he could smell it, now that he was up close. Something tight and painful squeezed his chest, and immediately all the anger seeped right out of him.

He was in love with Cadence LaPorte. A sense of panic wound itself from deep in his gut to wrap around his heart. Dear God, he didn’t want her to die! He needed her. He needed to hear her voice, see the determination etched on her beautiful face when she wasn’t ready to give up on something. He needed to experience the passion they shared again – and a thousand more times after that.

Could a panther cry?

Jonah hadn’t felt this close to breaking down since the day he’d killed that boy on the battlefield. He’d been doing reconnaissance behind enemy lines, when he’d spotted the confederate soldier. The man had been standing with his back to Jonah. Jonah had needed to get to an area past him and since the soldier was in his way, he had to be eliminated. In the blink of an eye, Jonah had cut the soldier’s throat.

What he hadn’t realized until he let the body fall silently to the ground was that the soldier was just a twelve-year-old boy. Jonah had dropped to his knees, vomiting in the bushes, tears streaming down his face. If he’d had the time, he’d have blubbered like a baby. As it was, he had to continue with his mission. But he’d never forgotten that boy’s face.

Cadence!

Shit
. He couldn’t speak while he was in panther form. Placing his paws on the edge of the mattress, Jonah leaned in and nuzzled her cheek. She opened her eyes, turning her head on the pillow to face him. Her eyes, he noticed, were dull, like dried up old moss. There was barely a trace of that spark of life and inner strength that had been so uniquely hers.

“What is this?” she asked weakly, her voice hoarse. She gazed at his large, feline features. “Jonah? Is it you? But how—”

Maybe she hadn’t known about this.

Straining, Jonah concentrated until he changed form. Naked and kneeling at the side of the bed, he ignored the familiar shock of transforming, and gently cradled her face between his trembling hands. “Cadence,” he breathed. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and he rubbed them away with his thumbs. “It is our way,” she said, her voice reed-thin. “I didn’t think you’d come.” Her brows knit together. “What’s happened to you?”

Jonah let out a shaky laugh, lowering his hands to clasp her icy-cold ones. “We are blood bound,” he said, mimicking Ba'cho’s accent. “Ba'cho said when I took the poison from you—”

“The night Ned Furley tried to force himself on me – the night we first made love…bound us together. It was the magic of Twelfth Moon. I felt it surround me, even though you had no idea. Since that night – because of my connection to you – it is impossible for me to live apart from you. I lose my will to live.”

“
Christ
, Cadence, why didn’t you tell me?

“I-I didn’t want you to stay with me out of obligation,” she said in a small voice, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. “I love you, Jonah. I understand your feelings about what I did to Robert and I-I wanted to let you go if that’s what you chose.”

She loved him
. Jonah’s heart nearly burst with joy at hearing her say those words. Suddenly it didn’t matter about Robert, or Jonah’s family, or anything else. What mattered was that she loved him – and he loved her. “None of that matters to me – not any more. I love you, too, Cadence – what’s your full name, darlin’?”

Jonah turned in a defensive crouch toward the intruder, placing himself in front of Cadence. How had he gotten in here? Jonah wished he had a weapon, although his fists would do just as nicely. “You know him?” he asked Cadence over his shoulder.

“We’ve already met,” she said curtly.

Itsá’s gaze raked arrogantly over Jonah’s naked form. “Did I interrupt something?” His lip curled into a sneer, his voice laced with contempt. “You are puny and weak. What do you think you can do to me, white man?”

Jonah knew the man was baiting him, since they were about the same size, and Jonah’s fighting skills were not to be discounted. He laughed evilly. “Come over here and find out, izdzáníí.” It was the Apache word for
woman
he’d learned from Ba'cho.

With a growl, Itsá moved forward. “No, Jonah!” Cadence cried out. “Don’t let him touch you!”

It was too late. Jonah sprang at Itsá, snarling as the two of them met. Jonah’s fist made contact with Itsá’s face, making the Ba'cho look-a-like stagger and drop down on one knee. Jonah’s satisfaction was short-lived, however, when he felt a sudden and overwhelming weakness flood his limbs. He fell to the floor, his entire body racked with such intense pain he no longer had control over his human form and immediately shifted into the panther.

Jaelene burst through the door, Kara on her heels.

“What the devil is going on in here?” Kara demanded, sidestepping around Jaelene, who stood frozen in place. Kara’s gaze shot to Itsá, her eyes narrowing as she looked from him to Jaelene, who was staring as intently at the Indian as he was at her.

“Get Ba'cho, quickly!” Cadence cried. She watched in horror as Jonah writhed in agony, his large paws twitching. She was stronger now that he was near, but she still hadn’t the strength to leave the bed and go to him – to comfort him.

Kara’s eyes widened with shock, taking in the sight of a strange panther convulsing on the floor, but she barely hesitated before turning and running from the room.

Jaelene’s face showed her astonishment as she looked at Itsá. “
You!
” she breathed.

What was this? Had Jaelene had a vision about Itsá?

Itsá’s golden eyes flashed in appreciation, his gaze slowly raking over Jaelene’s pale hair, then down her nightgown-clad body. “What a shame I cannot touch you, Tł'é'na'áí Izdzáníí,” he said in his strange accent, his voice deep and rich as velvet, “for there are many pleasurable things I could show you.”

Cadence snorted. Hadn’t he said something very similar to her not too long ago? It didn’t matter – they both ignored her.

“What did you call me?” Jaelene demanded breathlessly.

“
Moon Woman
,” he replied with a wicked grin.

A blush appeared on Jaelene’s cheeks, but her voice came out strong. “We have a destiny, you and I, much as I loath to admit. The evil that resides inside you must find another vessel.”

“You will not change me,” Itsá snarled at Jaelene. His eyes flared, glowing with an otherworldly fire. “I will destroy you first.” He took a step in her direction, holding his hand out toward her.

Nineteen

CADENCE COULDN’T ALLOW Itsá to touch Jaelene! Remembering the words Ba'cho had used to make Itsá vanish, she shouted, “Deeyá, Itsá!”

He disappeared instantly.

Cadence looked at Jaelene, who stood like a statue, her face flushed. What was wrong with her? “Jaelene?”

Jaelene took a shaky breath, ignoring Cadence’s query. “Is this Jonah?” she asked, turning and kneeling down by the panther. She placed her hand on his side, trying to sooth him.