Chapter Seven
Maisey
I eat eggs and toast and drink coffee. The night is late so I’m surprised when my phone rings and it’s Paul, my boss.
“Hey.” I press it to my ear.
“Why haven’t I heard from you?” he snaps.
“Er ... it’s nearly midnight, Paul.”
“All day, all day you’ve been AWOL. And that combined with the ridiculous message about some attachment that wasn’t there. What have you been doing?”
I grimace and rub my temples, aware that two big growly shifter men are watching me intently and would not like Paul should they ever meet him. He was opinionated, mean-talking, and did not run a happy ship.
“You said you were working on the urban myth column,” he goes on, “but I have nothing, zilch, nada, you really are asking for me to drop you from it. From everything!”
“I have another two days to submit.”
“And will you? Because right now I have as much confidence in you writing something as I have in a gnat’s fart blowing out a Californian wildfire.”
I raise my eyebrows. That is a new one.
“I will, I promise, Paul. I’ve got an idea.” I look at Elias and then Branson. Handsome and wild and wriggling their way into my heart faster than I could have ever imagined. I feel not just safe with them but as though I finally belong after a lifetime of not.
“What is this grand idea?” he snaps.
I bite on my bottom lip. There’s no way I am going to spill a single secret of the underworld. Not even to save my job. “It’s about bats, big bats, stealing people’s handbag dogs. You know, little Chihuahaus, Pomeranians, and that.”
“What?” I hear the incredulity in his voice.
“Apparently, it’s happening more and more. People are being advised not to take their dogs out at night.”
“I haven’t heard that.”
“It’s true, Paul, or at least the rumor is. I want to see if it’s an urban myth or if it really happens. People need to know.”
He hesitates. “I suppose it could work.”
“Yes.” I nod, warming to my subject. “And I have an interview set up with a woman who says she fought the bat off when it went for her pug.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“And she’s sure it was a bat?”
“I’ll know more when I interview her. I have to go. Will be in touch.”
Before he can say anything, I hang up and slide the phone across the table, needing as much distance between myself and him as I can get.
“Bats stealing dogs.” Branson raises his eyes at me and grins. “Imaginative.”
“Who was that douchebag?” Elias asks.
“You heard him, huh?”
“Every word.” Elias finishes his coffee and sets the mug aside. “And I don’t like how he spoke to you. Not one fucking bit.”
“He’s my boss, I’m supposed to be writing a piece for him. He’s getting antsy that it’s taking so long and he’s never been known for his patience.”
“Do you need to do it now?” Branson frowns. “We could maybe help.”
“Definitely not a job for now.” I stand. “I have a debt to repay to the shifters of New York City, it’s time to do that, nothing else matters.”
Branson smiles and stands. “Then I will take you.”
“I’ll come too.” Elias nods. “But not into the panther den, that’s a step too far, I’ll wait outside.”
“I will take good care of her,” Branson says. “You can trust me, Elias.”
“I know.” Elias reaches for Branson’s hand and in a tender gesture brings his knuckles to his lips.
“I’ve never worried about your strength or ability to take care of yourself or others, Branson.
Despite being a beta, and younger than me, there’s never been any pressure for me to protect you, not that I wouldn’t, I would.
” He pauses and shakes his head. “What I’m saying is I know you’re very capable. ”
“Thank you.” Branson smiles.
I see the wonderful connection between them and understand what drew them together in the first place. Branson can relax with an older lover who is pragmatic and dominant, and Elias clearly enjoys Branson’s youthful optimism and charm: an antidote to his past grief perhaps?
“I’m so glad it’s you guys who found me,” I say in a sudden rush of emotion. “I feel safe with you.”
“Maybe you found us.” Elias, still holding Branson’s hand, swipes his lips over mine. “We were meant to be.”
I nod and blink back a tear. My life has changed in ways I could never have imagined and I’m not complaining one bit.
I clear my throat. “Come on then, let’s get the shifters of New York City vaccinated against moon fever.”
We head out into the cold night and as soon as we hit the cover of the trees in Central Park, both men shift.
It’s the first time I’ve seen Elias up close in his wolf form and his beauty takes my breath away. His fur is a rich dark gray, though there are a few light patches that rival the whiteness of the snow falling around us.
And he’s big too, easily as big as the alpha, Fraser, with a thick neck and wide shoulders. His tail is fluffy and he moves with unexpected grace for such a powerful creature. When he looks at me, his blue eyes are somehow still his. I see him in there.
Branson rubs against my hand, his fur warm and soft, and I know he’ll protect me, they both will, on our walk to the panther den.
In the distance a siren wails and overhead a rumbling jet moves invisibly through the clouds. I look into the shadows, seeing nothing but blackness, and keep walking. With a panther and wolf on either side of me.
After ten minutes Elias stops. He nuzzles my hand with his nose and then sits, ears pricked, and looks up at the sky. Snow has settled on his fur but he doesn’t seem to notice.
Branson rubs against him, cat-like, and then walks toward a large mound of smooth boulders. They are common in the park but these are exceptionally large rocks and mostly covered by trees and shrubs.
I follow him, my footsteps crunching on the hard ground and frozen leaves.
As my eyes adjust to this new darkness, I see him slip into a crevice.
I support myself on the frosty rocks as I trace his footsteps. The crevice becomes a corridor and at the end is a low narrow door.
Branson stops in front of it and in a blur of magical energy he shifts into his human form.
My adrenaline surges, I’ll never get used to the wonder of the spectacle of fur turning to acres of perfect skin and his strong naked body appearing before me.
“One moment,” he says, his voice echoing.
From a small box he retrieves plain black pants, puts them on, and then takes a key from a crack in the rocks. He puts it into the door and opens it.
“Our clan has lived here for centuries.” He gestures for me to enter. “Welcome to our home.”
I duck and step in, feeling very much like I’m entering another world.
Candlelight flickers and the scent of pine needles and earth fill the air, as though we really are amongst the tree roots.
In a dark alcove I see a panther’s yellow eyes flash. It’s really all I can see of him and I can’t help the trip of fear in my heart.
“Maurice,” Branson says, slipping his arm around my waist. “You have been expecting us.”
He dips his head though his slit eyes stay locked on me.
“Is Aslar in his cave?”
Again, the panther dips his head.
“Come on, Aslar is alpha, we must find him before we do anything else.” Branson urges me forward. “But watch your head, the rocks are low in places. Usually, we move around in panther form.”
He is right and as we make our way deeper into the den I have to fight a sense of claustrophobia. The place is a maze and I’d never find my way out without Branson at my side.
Eventually we come to a larger space that is high enough to stand up straight in and contains a table and several chairs. In the corner is a pile of bones, stacked up almost decoratively, and one wall is painted with images of paw prints and cats’ eyes.
“I thought Aslar would be here.” Branson puts his hands on his hips and looks around.
“I am.” A tall man suddenly appears. He has a graying moustache, longish and whisker-like, and his torso is bare. Like Branson, he wears only black pants that sit low on his hips. His abs are defined and he has a scar, four claw marks, on his right shoulder. “I had to find Nikoli.”
“And did you?” Branson asks.
“Yes, he will be here any second.” He looks at me. “It’s is an honor to meet you, Maisey, you are the talk of the underworld tonight.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” I say. “And I am glad to be of use.”
“More than use, you are saving an entire generation. Shifters have been persecuted and hunted throughout history, we are rare, some might say endangered, so we must survive this.”
“And it seems to me,” I say, “that you have come together as clans to do so.”
“Times have to change.” Aslar looks at Branson. “The young ones know this.”
I’m not sure what passes between them. Something unspoken that I can’t decipher.
“Ah, she is here.” A small man with black hair rushes in carrying a leather bag.
“Good, good.” He speaks and moves fast and plonks the bag on the table and starts rummaging in it.
“Five vials, that’s all we need, won’t take long and you’ll hardly feel a thing.
You definitely won’t notice the loss and you will be making an enormous contribution to the underworld. ”
“Are you okay?” Branson asks, studying me.
“Absolutely.” I shrug off my coat and hand it to him. “I want to do this, you know I do.”
“Please sit.” Aslar pulls out a chair.
I sit and notice him lingering close, his nostrils flaring slightly as he takes in my scent.
“A very rare find indeed,” he says to Branson. “You did well for your pack.”
“For all packs,” Nikoli says, laying out the vials and then popping a needle onto a syringe. “Ready?”
I nod.
He ties a band around my biceps and I fist my hand. A vein pops up in the crease of my elbow.
It takes Nikoli less than a minute to gather the blood needed to vaccinate all of the city’s clans. When he withdraws the needle, I scoop up a drip and hold it out to him.
His eyes flash and he licks the drip off with one swipe of his tongue. “I thank you.”
I collect another drop and hold it to Aslar. “Here, take it.”
Like Nikoli he doesn’t hesitate and sucks on my finger. His eyes flicker as though savoring the taste, and then he straightens. “You have done us all a great service.”
“I believe I am just settling a debt.”
Nikoli nods. “You are the child the wolves kept warm that night.”
“Yes,” I say.
“They knew you were special, that you were a descendant of the High Priestess. They could smell the ancient magic in your veins.”
I study the creases on his face and the way his long bushy eyebrows curl at the ends.
“But there is more...” he says almost in a whisper. “That makes you special.”
“She’s very special,” Branson says with conviction.
“I wonder if she could be special to you,” Nikoli turns his attention to Branson. “In spite of everything. Regardless of what you have been up until now.”
“What I have been?” Branson asks and I hear the note of defensiveness.
Nikoli smiles. “This woman is one of few in the world who can carry shifter babies.”
“What?” My eyes widen. “I don’t understand.”
“Shifters are generally born to female shifters in their animal form, it’s the only way they can go to full term, but your magic, the precious ash in your veins, means you can withstand a child inside you shifting. It is a very rare gift indeed.”
I look at Branson. Would he want me to carry his child? Would Elias? They are questions I can’t even contemplate right now. Me... a mother. A mother of shifters!
“We should go, Elias is waiting,” Branson says holding out my coat.
“I thought he would be,” Aslar says.
“What does that mean?” Branson asks.
“Branson.” Aslar sets his hand on Branson’s shoulder.
“I have known for a long time that you share a special bond with Elias. One that was written in the stars. You do not have to hide it from us. Elias is a good man, he was a great leader of the wolves for many years, and I know he makes you happy.”
“He does.” Branson nods, yet I see the tension in his face. This is a difficult and revealing conversation, he likely feels vulnerable and conflicted.
“Elias has become special to me, too,” I say, “I can attest he is a good man.”
Aslar smiles. “So go to him, both of you, the night is bitter even when wearing fur. But...” He shakes his head. “Be careful. There is still a coyote out there with moon fever and he’s rabid with the need for murder and blood. Until he is found and everyone is vaccinated, we must be on high alert.”
“There is one out there?” I ask, feeling somewhat panicked.
“Yes, the coyote clan confessed that two of theirs got sick and disappeared. We have to find this last one as soon as possible.”