Colorblind (Moonlight) (3 page)

“I won’t hurt you, Penny. I swear that is not my intention.” Nor would it ever be.

She swallowed and stood ramrod straight, eyeing him levelly. “Tha’s wha all massas say before they hurt us.” Her voice was quiet and factual.

Holding up a hand, he walked past her and took a seat in the high-backed chair behind the large oak desk. “You can stay over there if it makes you more comfortable. I won’t move from this seat.”

She nodded, eyeing him carefully.

Leon stared right back. She wore the same dress from yesterday, a drab gray thing that was probably stifling her in this awful heat. “Can you read or write?”

She looked even more terrified, and for the first time, he tried to enter her mind. There were no shields against him, the first sign that he dealt with an amateur, and he slipped in easily. She could. She could read, write, and knew her numbers well. She could even speak properly, although she chose not to for fear of someone finding out. Educated slaves were not only rare, but dangerous to the plantocracy. Slavery was justified as “helping” the Negroes, who couldn’t help themselves because they lacked the capacity to learn as whites did. An educated slave spat directly in the face of such theories.

“No, Massa.” Penny didn’t bat an eyelash at the lie. It rolled off her tongue as smooth as molasses. “Slaves don’ know nothin’ ’bout read an’ write.”

“Penny,” Leon began gently. “If you’re honest with me, I will be honest with you.”

She shook her head, clasping her hands over her belly. “Slaves not ’posed to know how, Massa.”

“Will you call me Leon when we are alone?” he inquired, waiting for her slight nod before continuing, “I only ask because I need someone smart to be something of an assistant.”

He didn’t really need an assistant. He wanted her in the house and away from Pleasant. There was something in the way the overseer looked at her that didn’t sit well with him. He had no doubt Pleasant lusted after her—she was a beautiful woman—but there was something else there, something
mean
that made his wolf bristle in anticipation of tasting the man’s blood.

“Assistant?” She asked as if the term were foreign to her. It probably was.

“Yes. I have many account ledgers, and I need someone who can read, write, and do numbers to help me.”

“Only that, Mass—Leon?” she finally asked, looking skeptical and unsure.

He nodded, barely holding back a large grin at her use of his name.

“For ’ow long?”

“Two days a week, maybe three.”

“And I gon’ still be in the fields too?”

“Would you like that?”

She nodded. He found it strange, that she wanted to stay in the fields, in the merciless sun, when given the option of working in the comfort of the house. “Yes.”

Her eyes fell to his lips as he spoke, and hidden as he was in her mind, he felt the spark that marked her budding desire for him. It confused her, and she tried to push it away, but it was still there. It made him happy that he was not alone in that sentiment, although it would not be acted on.

“I’s gon’ go back now, Mas—Leon,” she said quickly, hurrying out of the office. As she pulled in the door, he leaned back in the chair and lifted his eyes to the ceiling. He had forty-seven slaves to send north, one who was a werewolf and didn’t know, and to whom he was attracted.

Leon groaned, then sighed. He would have to make the arrangements soon.

Chapter Two

She found it hard to concentrate with him in the room.

Penny was good at numbers, had always had a head for them. Hyacinth, “Old Ma” as she was affectionately called, had taught her to read, write, and do her numbers, as she did with all slave children willing to learn. Old Ma wasn’t afraid of anyone, possibly because of her age or because she was considered a voodoo priestess, and had decided before she met her maker that she was going to share the knowledge she had with the children.

Penny blinked as the numbers on the ledger seemed to jumble into one another, and stole a peek at Leon. He sat directly before her, on the opposite side of the large desk. He was busy writing a letter, his strong, tanned fingers holding the quill secure as he neatly scratched something on the parchment before him. Her eyes moved up his hand to the thin white cotton shirt he wore, up to his neck, and finally to his face. The girls in the slave quarters liked to joke about how handsome he was “for a white man”, and while she always scoffed at them, Penny could not deny it while staring at him from such a close distance.

He had a full head of dark brown hair, which was always tussled because he ran his fingers through the thick strands frequently. His lips were thin and they looked soft; his nose was long, with a slight bump at tip that only made him more handsome. Leon chose that moment to look up and green eyes arrested hers. Of his features, she probably liked them the most. Not only for their color, a vivid forest green that darkened and lightened depending on his mood, but because she sensed many things in them. Warmth, kindness, respect. Old Ma had always told her that the eyes were the windows to the soul, and she’d always thought the white man’s soul evil, until him. Leon Arnaud was unlike any man, white or colored, she’d met before.

“Do you need something, Penny?” Leon asked. The sound of his voice, low and husky, shocked her. Hastily looking back to the numbers, she shook her head. A muffled sound touched her ear and she lifted her gaze. His expression was warm, his eyes twinkling in mirth as his lips upturned. He was finding humor at her expense!

“No,
Massa
.”

His grin faded, and Penny smiled. She looked back to the numbers, but within moments, found herself peeking out at him. His eyes were still trained on her, and he was grinning once more. Quickly, she looked back to the ledger.

Leon Arnaud was too much of a distraction. It would do her no good to encourage him.

***

The next week flew by quickly for Leon. He’d sent out cryptic messages in the form of slave-listings and the prices he wished for them to his contacts in the North, especially New York, and was waiting for word. He’d also advised Pleasant and Hollis to begin looking for ten more slaves. He intended to send them out in batches of ten or fewer, to avoid suspicion. As he waited, he watched the slaves, grew to understand them.

They were a strong people, perhaps among the strongest of the human race. They’d suffered much, and still their sufferings continued, yet they remained deeply affectionate to their own. When he passed the kitchen, he’d observed Clarisse singing to the two young boys who roamed the house, and he’d seen Julia and Jolie laughing and giggling while dusting the staircase. It was perhaps because they’d known no different from birth, but Leon found their resilience incredible. They were better than him.

At nights, when all was quiet, he slipped from the plantation house, moved into the deep thicket of the trees that marked the untouched parts of the plantation, and allowed his wolf free rein. Life on the plantation made him feel caged, restless, and he usually worked it off by giving his wolf freedom at nights. The run allowed him to stretch his muscles, keep his skills sharp, and forget briefly everything but the wind whipping through his fur and the prey he chased.

He was returning from such a run when the familiar scent of wild honeysuckle wafted under his nose. It didn’t take him long to find her. She was in a clearing hidden by clusters of trees. Like him, she was in her wolf’s body, lying on her side with her eyes closed. The slow but uneven rise and fall of her belly told him she was awake but relaxing.

Although shocked, as his theory that Penny was unaware of her heritage was shattered, Leon couldn’t help but admire her beauty in this form. She had a glossy, sable-black coat, with a pristine, white underbelly. He’d been staring at her for no more than ten seconds before her eyes snapped open, and she stood, bristling as she did so.

Leon knew she couldn’t see him. She lacked the skill. It was a weakness he’d have to address. She scanned the trees, looking for movement that would tell her what her instincts already knew. He stepped into the clearing slowly, halting when she took quick steps, head lowered, as she prepared to defend herself. Despite the fighting stance, he read the fear in her eyes and hoped she would not flee. She didn’t. Even as her terror washed over them both, she held still, lips curled away to reveal sharp fangs.

I told you that you are like me.
He tried to use humor to lighten the mood, but she still seemed skittish.

She didn’t respond for long moments. Instead, she took a step back, before taking two cautious steps forward. Shock radiated from her being.
I thought I was the only one with this curse.

He nodded, pleased she spoke, as he knew she could. So Penny knew she was a
were,
but thought it a curse. Leon knew many who would take affront at that thought.

It’s no curse, Penny, and there are many more like us.

Her body, which had lost some of its tension, seized up once more. Her lip curled up revealing sharp, gleaming white teeth.
Who are you? Why are you here?

My name is Leon Arnaud, and I am here to help the slaves.

Her body eased of some of its tension, and she moved closer to him. One step, and then others, until she’d circled him. Leon held still, barely turning his head to see where she moved. She was scrutinizing him, from his silver and white fur to his bigger build.

Penny stepped closer, until her fur pressed against his, and inhaled deeply. His beast wanted to howl, but he managed to take control, step away, and turn to face her.

Help us? Help us by doing what? We are slaves, at the whim of one master or another.

There’s a movement to send slaves north. It’s an underground network of people who don’t believe in slavery, and would see it abolished if they could. In the meantime, we are sending slaves to their freedom.

She shook her head vehemently.
It will not work. They’ll be killed before they leave Louisiana or just after. The penalty a slave faces for running is death, if he’s lucky
.

My friends will guarantee their safety.

She said nothing for a long moment, and in her eyes, now a paler shade of brown, bordering on hazel-gold, he read hope.

If you’re to succeed, you will need to get rid of Pleasant. He is too keen and would out you if he suspected anything. Hollis is…kinder.

Leave Pleasant to me.

Satisfied, she nodded, and then turned as if she intended to leave him. He moved in front of her quickly, startling her with his speed.

What you told me, about being born on the plantation, was that all true?

She seemed taken aback at the question, but nodded.
Yes. Everything was true.

Except this
?

Her eyes widened.
I didn’t know I was one of many. I thought it a curse, heaped upon me for the wrongs of some past ancestor.

He scowled.
It’s no curse, Penny. Many see it as a blessing
.

To be different?
She made a sound that sounded close to a scoff.
To be unable to

control the whims of the wolf? It is more curse than blessing.

Only because you haven’t been taught how. I can teach you.

She stared at him for a long moment before she nodded once.
I would like that.

Then I will teach you.
When she made as if to leave, he stepped directly into her path and asked,
How have you managed to keep it secret?

A little smile curved her lips as her tongue wagged
. I haven’t. Some of the slaves in my quarters know, but they are superstitious and Old Ma has convinced them that I bring luck.

Leon nodded, and stepped closer to her.
I would like what we have discussed tonight to remain between us.

Yes, of course. I understand.

She turned to run back to the slave quarters but stopped, and looked over her shoulder at him. He watched her. Her steps were uncertain as she trotted back to him.

Thank you.

Before he could respond, she ran back into the thicket. He turned away to keep from following, finding the moon hovering above him. Bright and full, he stared at it for many seconds before turning and following her scent back to the slave quarters. He arrived in time to see her run across the compound in a flash of naked flesh, before agilely climbing in through an open window.

Leon found the shirt and trousers he’d left at the base of a tree and dressed quickly before making his way back to the plantation house. There was much on his mind, and most of his thoughts revolved around the slave who was also a werewolf.

***

Leon could no more keep his eyes off her the next day than she could him.

He would look up from his parchments, and she, from the ledgers she overlooked, and they would end up staring at each other. No words passed their lips and he never attempted to access her mind; it wasn’t necessary. The look in her dark eyes—hot and needy—broadcasted her thoughts. It had gotten so bad that Penny pushed away from the desk, stood, and rushed out on a long exhale, “I should see if they need me…outside.”

“Penny, wait—” He was up in a flash, but halted when she flew back against the door and shook her head. Leon froze, sensing her need to run, to escape. “Penny, don’t fear me.”

She stared back at him in confusion and whispered, “It’s not you I fear.”

He closed the distance between them quickly, his body pressing against the softness of hers. A long sigh escaped her lips, and her lids fell to partially conceal her eyes. His hand moved up to the loose scarf she always wore. He tugged gently, allowing the material to fall to the ground. Her hair was a cluster of tight, black curls. Some fell down in tight spirals to caress her cheekbones while others pushed out wildly in various directions.

“You are beautiful,” he murmured, unable to prevent what instinct compelled. “
Très belle
.” He claimed her lips.