Changeling Moon (5 page)
Authors: Dani Harper
“You know, there's another reason why the town officials didn't take you seriously.”
“What would that be?”
“They don't want the stories about werewolves to start up again.”
“Excuse me?”
“Werewolves. Two years ago the paper carried a number of stories about werewolves attacking area residents.”
She stopped dead and stared at him, the carafe forgotten in her hand. “You've got to be kidding.”
“Nope. Wish I was. Of course, there were only three people interviewed, all of them regulars at the same bar, mind you. Didn't stop some of the bigger city papers from picking up the story. We even had a television crew visit the sites of the alleged attacks. Dunvegan ended up on the national news and for a while it was impossible to go to the post office without running into reporters. It was all very X-Files.”
Zoey shook her head slowly. She was in the news businessâhow had she not heard about the story before she came here? Had she been so intent on avoiding the paranormal that she had missed it? Of course, she would have been focused on “real” news, automatically filtering out anything that reeked of tabloid tales. “No one ever mentioned a word of it at the newspaper. I had no ideaâwait, wait just a minute.” She held up a finger as several puzzle pieces clicked into place.
“Oh. My. God. I'll bet that's why the publisher asked me during the job interview if I'd ever reported a UFO story or interviewed a dead celebrity! I thought he just had a bizarre sense of humor.” She laughed as she said it, but she'd been terrified during the interview, fearful that Ted Biegel had heard rumors, had somehow discovered the truth behind her reputation for breaking stories or worse, had discovered her real last name. What a relief to know that the man's odd questions hadn't had a thing to do with her, her psychic ability, or her unusual family.
Connor chuckled. “I imagine old Ted feared a repeat of history. He was on vacation when the werewolf stories came out. When he came back, the editor responsible not only resigned but left town.”
“I imagine that's
resigned
as in
fired
.”
resigned
as in
fired
.”
“That's what everyone figured.”
“I'm really glad you told me this before I wrote about the attack.” She wanted nothing to do with any supernatural stories. No werewolves, no woo-woo,
nothing
that might direct any attention her way. Sure, she'd changed her name years ago, but one whiff of the paranormal around her and another reporter would have little trouble uncovering who she really was. “I could have destroyed my credibility as a journalist without even knowing it. No wonder the deputy mayor was so rude.”
nothing
that might direct any attention her way. Sure, she'd changed her name years ago, but one whiff of the paranormal around her and another reporter would have little trouble uncovering who she really was. “I could have destroyed my credibility as a journalist without even knowing it. No wonder the deputy mayor was so rude.”
She'd have to shelve all the research she'd done on wolves, along with the draft of her article. Maybe she could rework it and sell it to a magazineâin another part of the country. And the “dog attack” story for the newspaper? She would have to choose her words carefully so as not to remind local residentsâor her publisherâabout those werewolf tales. Or anything else of that nature. . . . Zoey put a pair of frothy cups on the table and tried to lighten things up. “God, can you imagine the headlines if a bigger paper picked up the story?
Werewolf Attacks Editor, Town Under Siege by Wolfman.
That would be great for my careerânot!”
Werewolf Attacks Editor, Town Under Siege by Wolfman.
That would be great for my careerânot!”
Connor awarded two thumbs up to the mocha, then asked, “So, can I drive you over to the clinic now and get that wound looked at?”
She shook her head. “Thanks, but I haven't even checked to see if they're open on a Saturday. I really should have done it yesterday.”
He smiled and pulled out a cell phone, waggled it in his hand, then went out onto her balcony. A few moments later, he returned and pocketed the phone. “Lowen says to bring you in. He'll open the place in twenty minutes.”
“Iâwhat? Who's Lowen?”
“Lowen Miller, husband of Bev Miller. They're the doctors here. And my friends.”
“That's a wonderful offer butâ”
“It's not an offer, it's an order from Lowen. He's threatening to come down here if you don't show up. Says a bite like that is nothing to fool around with, and I happen to agree with him.”
Zoey stared for a long moment, slightly stunned. The amiable and charming Connor Macleod had just neatly transformed into a brick wall. The expression on his face was still pleasant yet something in his eyes had hardened. Her lips were forming a protestâhopefully something more mature than
you're not the boss of meâ
when a familiar tingly sensation settled over her. And expanded. Her gift, usually so tiny, flared brightly as she looked at the man standing in her kitchen, giving her a sudden clarity of perception.
you're not the boss of meâ
when a familiar tingly sensation settled over her. And expanded. Her gift, usually so tiny, flared brightly as she looked at the man standing in her kitchen, giving her a sudden clarity of perception.
He wasn't threatening her, she could feel that. There was only good intent. But no mistake, Connor Macleod was fully prepared to do whatever was necessary to get her to the clinic. If she argued, she would not win. If she refused, he would probably carry her. That rankled more than a little but then she shook herself mentally, letting the gift show her more.
He was afraid for herâ
He was afraid for herâ
The gift winked out abruptly and she wondered how long she'd been staring at Connor. “You're right,” she said simply. And he was. She'd been an
idiot
for not getting her leg looked atâwhat had she been thinking? It was just like that time she had gotten so involved with covering an ongoing murder trial that she'd neglected to eat for a day and a half. And had fainted on the courthouse steps like a ninny. Mortified, she'd made a promise to take better care of herself. It was just that she got so darn focused, so intent. . . .
idiot
for not getting her leg looked atâwhat had she been thinking? It was just like that time she had gotten so involved with covering an ongoing murder trial that she'd neglected to eat for a day and a half. And had fainted on the courthouse steps like a ninny. Mortified, she'd made a promise to take better care of herself. It was just that she got so darn focused, so intent. . . .
She thanked him and went to get dressed.
Chapter Five
A
fter the trip to the clinic, Connor drove Zoey back to her apartment to pick up her camera and her truck. He'd hoped to talk her into having breakfast with him, but she insisted she had to go to work. He knew full well that the newspaper office wasn't open on Saturday, but maybe she just wanted to get some writing done. Or maybe she just needed to assert herself.
fter the trip to the clinic, Connor drove Zoey back to her apartment to pick up her camera and her truck. He'd hoped to talk her into having breakfast with him, but she insisted she had to go to work. He knew full well that the newspaper office wasn't open on Saturday, but maybe she just wanted to get some writing done. Or maybe she just needed to assert herself.
He'd been prepared for a hell of an argument over going to the doctor, and then over whether or not he could drive her there. She did
not
like being told what to do. He felt her bristle at his words, saw her plant her feet, fist her hands at her sides, resist with every part of her being. She'd glared at him eye-to-eye when suddenly the ferocity slipped away, replaced by something akin to his own
farsight
. The power of it had radiated from her like the electrical energy that heralded the Change from human to wolf. It had lasted only a few seconds, but it was long enough to change her mind. Long enough to make him wonder.
not
like being told what to do. He felt her bristle at his words, saw her plant her feet, fist her hands at her sides, resist with every part of her being. She'd glared at him eye-to-eye when suddenly the ferocity slipped away, replaced by something akin to his own
farsight
. The power of it had radiated from her like the electrical energy that heralded the Change from human to wolf. It had lasted only a few seconds, but it was long enough to change her mind. Long enough to make him wonder.
Now he slipped into the back door of the clinic, headed up the stairs to the living quarters where he knew his friends were waiting. He could smell Earl Grey steeping, Bev's favorite. She was a pediatrician while Lowen was actually the area's coroner as well as a surgeon. Rather than retire, the couple had chosen to leave the big city and their lucrative practices to set up a clinic in a small town that needed them. With the nearest hospital two hours away and doctors in short supply in northern Canada, little Dunvegan was extremely lucky to have them. Connor felt lucky himself to count them as friends. Particularly because they knew what he was.
He was barely through the door when Bev handed him a mug of fragrant tea and pointed to the living room. Lowen wandered in a few moments later and tossed Connor a small empty bottle before ensconcing himself in his favorite recliner.
“You oughta keep that one, wolf-boy.”
“This?” Connor looked at the bottle.
“No, that long-legged gal you brought in. She's a smart one. I like her editorials. So this silver nitrate you palmed me is supposed to stop her from becoming what you are?”
“Yes.” Legends and folk tales claimed that anyone bitten by a Changeling would become one. They were absolutely right. The secret was in the saliva. A single bite, even a very small one, sent saliva into the bloodstream. The saliva activated an otherwise innocuous gene already present in all humans. Only silver nitrate could stop the process, and only if used in time. Treatment had to be started within twelve hours or all the silver in the world wouldn't help. “Injection is more effective because you only need to do it once, but it's pretty tough to explain to a human patient what the shot is for. Especially when we're talking about a hundred or so cc's.”
“That's a damn big shot,” snorted Lowen. “So that's why you decided to go with a topical application?”
“Exactly. More applications but easier to pass off. Two's usually enough as long as it's started within twelve hours of the bite, but there was a full moon behind the clouds the night Zoey was bitten. A Changeling's bite tends to be more virulent then, so I'm playing it safe by giving her three applications.”
“The whole thing sounds like a damn B-movie.” Lowen shook his head. “Well, I followed your instructions to the letter, doused every puncture with it. Acted like I was flushing the wounds. The stuff looks just like distilled water.”
“Colloidal silver is touted for its antibiotic properties.” Bev came and sat on the couch next to Connor. “People often take it internally.”
“Yeah, well, people take a lot of questionable things internally,” grunted Lowen. “Too much of that silver nitrate stuff and you turn into a giant Smurf. Skin's blue, permanently. I once had a case whereâ”
“So has Zoey had the three applications now?” Bev cut her husband off with such practiced ease that Connor had to hide a smile. It was likely a talent she'd developed in self-defense, since Lowen could reminisce for hours once he got started.
“I gave her one the night of the attack. Lowen gave her the second one this morning. Ideally they should be a day or two apart, so I've got to find a way to get her another one Monday or Tuesday.”
“Ha. That won't be hard.” The old doctor slurped the last of his tea and banged the cup down on a side table. “I suggested she let
you
check her leg and change the dressings.”
you
check her leg and change the dressings.”
Connor was surprised. “Why would you tell her that? I'm a vet.”
“And the most talented healer I've ever come across. The medical profession lost out when you decided to patch up cows instead of people.”
“Thanks but still, it's one thing to pinch hit in an emergency andâ”
“But there's no emergency,” replied Lowen. “Exactly. She's due back in a week so I can officially look at the wound to make sure there's still no infection, but until then she's on her own. And that's where you come in. I told her I want the dressings changed frequently, the wounds washed and treated with antibiotic cream. So you'll have plenty of opportunities to apply the silver nitrate and ask her out.”
Connor laughed then. “You're devious, Lowen.”
“So my poker opponents tell me. Now reassure me of one thing.”
“What?”
“That there's no chance of rabies from this bite. I know it's rare in this part of the country, but it's still standard procedure to ship a bite victim off to the city for shots when we can't locate the animal and test it.”
“Changelings don't carry rabies.”
“And you know for certain it wasn't a real wolf?” asked Bev.
“Better. I know who the wolf was.” Connor's gray eyes darkened. “And I also know he won't be a wolf again. Ever.”
Lowen's eyebrow went up. “Sounds personal.”
God, yes, it was personal. “He would have killed her, Lowen.” No sooner had he formed the words than his inner wolf began snarling and snapping. With enormous effort, Connor leashed it firmly, startled at the strength of it, puzzled by its purpose. The wolf clearly intended to protect Zoey Tyler. No matter what.
Zoey spent most of the day at the office, then took photos at a service club meeting where scholarships were being awarded to some bright and promising high school seniors. After supper she returned to the office to download the photos and write up an article.
The
Dunvegan Herald Weekly
office was silent except for clocks ticking and the dripping of the staff room faucet. She liked having the place to herself. How on earth had she ever gotten anything done in the middle of a big busy newsroom? It was so much easier to work when it was quiet. Easier, until she played her phone messages and found one from Connor. It was nothing much, just a simple request that she call him, but his deep melodious voice did strange things to her insides. God, he even
sounded
hot. Did he do that on purpose?
Dunvegan Herald Weekly
office was silent except for clocks ticking and the dripping of the staff room faucet. She liked having the place to herself. How on earth had she ever gotten anything done in the middle of a big busy newsroom? It was so much easier to work when it was quiet. Easier, until she played her phone messages and found one from Connor. It was nothing much, just a simple request that she call him, but his deep melodious voice did strange things to her insides. God, he even
sounded
hot. Did he do that on purpose?
It ruined her concentration for writing. She'd barely get a sentence down before she began thinking of Connor. His eyes for instance, and how they were almost silver at times. With such a color they should have seemed cold, even icy, and yet they were anything but. There was warmth and ready humor in them. Untilâ
Zoey contemplated the glimpse she'd gotten of another side of Connor Macleod. The one who'd stood in her kitchen ready to do whatever was necessary to get her to the clinic. His eyes had been different then, darker. The warmth was gone, replaced with a decided coolness. Yet there was no chill directed toward her. Of that she was certain. It was more like the coolness of metal armor, the determined chill of a sword, as he readied for battle. As he stood to protect her, even from herself.
She shivered at the sheer sexiness of it, of him. Ran her hands through her hair and rubbed them lightly over her face, feeling the heat that had flared in her cheeks.
Heat.
In his truck, she had awakened to the sensation of Connor stroking her cheek. In her kitchen, he'd placed that big hand over hers. She could still feel the unusual heat that had radiated from his skin on both occasions. Not the parched heat of a fever but more like the banked coals of a campfire, something that beckoned her to relax, to stretch out and simply bask in the pleasure of it.
Heat.
In his truck, she had awakened to the sensation of Connor stroking her cheek. In her kitchen, he'd placed that big hand over hers. She could still feel the unusual heat that had radiated from his skin on both occasions. Not the parched heat of a fever but more like the banked coals of a campfire, something that beckoned her to relax, to stretch out and simply bask in the pleasure of it.
Sitting behind her desk as she had sat at her bistro table, her hand resting palm down on the smooth surface, she smiled. The table had been so tiny, she could have reached out and touched Connor easily. Could have indulged the urge she'd felt to brush the glossy dark hair from his face, indulged that wish to slide her palm over the stubble on his jaw. She imagined stirring her mocha slowly, lazily, and skimming the chocolate froth onto the spoon. Licking it off with quick little flicks of her tongue while he watched her with silvery eyes. . . .
Omigod.
She put a hand on her chest where her heart was pounding and took several deep breaths. If she was going to make a habit of fantasizing about Connor at work, she'd have to start keeping a vibrator in her desk! Zoey looked up at the clock, then at her laptop screen. She had a whopping six and a half sentences to show for an hour's work. Crap.
Crap, crap, crap.
Desperate to get her mind off a certain tall, sexy veterinarian, she seized her camera bag. Maybe the fresh evening air would cool her down. Maybe a short walk would ease the stiffness that had set into her aching leg and work off some of her unexpected, uh,
tension
. Oh hell. Maybe she'd be really lucky and find another wolf to beat up. . . .
She put a hand on her chest where her heart was pounding and took several deep breaths. If she was going to make a habit of fantasizing about Connor at work, she'd have to start keeping a vibrator in her desk! Zoey looked up at the clock, then at her laptop screen. She had a whopping six and a half sentences to show for an hour's work. Crap.
Crap, crap, crap.
Desperate to get her mind off a certain tall, sexy veterinarian, she seized her camera bag. Maybe the fresh evening air would cool her down. Maybe a short walk would ease the stiffness that had set into her aching leg and work off some of her unexpected, uh,
tension
. Oh hell. Maybe she'd be really lucky and find another wolf to beat up. . . .
There were no wolves wandering the streets but Zoey enjoyed the fresh spring air. Temperatures had risen to normal and the only evidence left of the freak ice storm was a scattering of twigs and branches on the ground, some sawdust where the fallen tree at the top of Main Street had been removed, and a few puddles. She walked slowly, favoring her injured calf. Lowen Miller had ordered her to stay off it, but she'd been in a chair all dayâsurely it wouldn't hurt anything to stretch a bit?
The sun was low in the sky when Zoey reached the little park by the fire hall. It was too early in the year for flowers. There didn't seem to be anything worth photographing and she was ready to turn back when Lucinda Perkins's minivan turned the corner. Mabel Rainier was riding shotgun. The pale green vehicle was festooned with homemade signs identifying it as the DNPâDunvegan Neighborhood Patrol.
It took only a wave from Zoey for the van to pull over. Lucinda and Mabel were from the local senior's lodge, where in recent months a small group had formed the DNP in response to a rash of vandalism. The seniors worked hard to repair or replace the many flower boxes, both in the park and along the downtown streets, and were determined to protect them. So far, the patrol idea seemed to be working.
The women willingly posed by a newly built planter, excited that they were going to be in the newspaper. Zoey couldn't help being charmedâit wasn't an attitude she'd encountered much as a journalist in the city. People just seemed to be more cynical there, either unimpressed by attention from the media or demanding it as their due. She diligently took down information and quotes for what would be a nice little story for Page Three.
“I'm so glad we have an editor who takes an interest in community events,” said Lucinda.
Zoey smiled. “Isn't that what an editor does?”
“Well,” said Mabel. “You'd think so, but nothing's quite the same as it used to be. Everyone's been looking for the sensational ever since those werewolf stories started up all over again a couple years ago.”
Again?
Zoey lowered her steno pad. “I heard a little about what happened then. Have there been stories before?” Connor hadn't mentioned any earlier episodes.
Zoey lowered her steno pad. “I heard a little about what happened then. Have there been stories before?” Connor hadn't mentioned any earlier episodes.
Lucinda patted her arm as if to soothe her confusion. “Well, it's one of those things, dear. Every area has its local legends, stories you tell around campfires on a dark night.”
“Except here, instead of ghosts, it's werewolves,” supplied Mabel. “Usually it dies down in a little while and people forget all about it. Then those menâ”
“Those
drunks
you mean,” sniffed Lucinda.
drunks
you mean,” sniffed Lucinda.
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