Shepherd's Moon (33 page)

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Authors: Stacy Mantle

BOOK: Shepherd's Moon
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“Modnik, she will live?” Concern etched soft wrinkles around the corners of her eyes.

I nodded. “She’s badly hurt. I need you to bring the doctor up as soon as he’s here.”

She glanced nervously at the room. “I will care for her until he arrives.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I need you to help with the cubs later tonight, though. They’re going to be frightened. I’m taking them for now until we hear how Modnik is going to be. But, would you stay with them tonight?

“Of course,” she answered, as though there were no reason for doubt. But, I knew that asking a wolf to watch over two jaguars left a lot of room for doubt.

“Doc’s here!” Brock called before I heard the resounding knock.

“Show him in.” I moved down the hall, my boots echoing on the tile. With Aida being a female of calm countenance, as well as a nurse, I knew Modnik would be in great hands.

The cubs sniffed softly at me, nudging me with their noses and chirping softly. They understood that something was very wrong, but had no idea what that could be. Modnik was the rock — the strong one. How could anything at all bring her down?

I felt that they were really too young for me to read, but if Modnik didn’t make a quick improvement, I would have to try.

Hesitantly, they followed me back to my bedroom, chirping softly for their mother and turning every few steps to look for her as they walked, but I patiently urged them on. Once there, they bounded across the room, anxiously exploring every nook and cranny and jumping back in fear at every new item. No part of the room went unsniffed, and every piece of furniture was jumped on, pounced on, or hunted. Just watching them set me more at ease and I rubbed the back of my neck, relaxing for the first time in a week. It was another hour before they were both settled in the bed, each with a bottle of milk they somehow managed to place between their paws, although there was far more chewing going on than drinking. They didn’t really need the extra milk, but it was comfort food and my hope was that they would fall out quickly. The Council meeting was in less than an hour and I hoped to get some answers on the latest sequence of events.

It was time for answers.

I was getting really tired of the questions.

I watched the two cubs as they slept. It wasn’t fair that the family of jaguars had to live their lives in fear. Modnik had spent her life either struggling for survival in the jungles of South America, or fighting to escape the grasp of a deranged and abusive pride. When she finally gained freedom, she was whisked off to North America with no reasoning or explanation. And now, just as she was beginning to trust again, when she had finally found real security and comfort, it was being snatched from her.

It didn’t make sense, and I couldn’t figure out why some were forced to suffer so much more than others. It just wasn’t fair.

Worse yet was the feeling that this time, her fear, her injuries, were my fault.

I should have been watching her, and I never should have let the cougar into my home. For that matter, I never should have let Tristan into the house. At the very least, one of the other members could have dealt with the Nephilim until Modnik was safely away from the prisoner — until we knew for sure what we were dealing with… Instead, I had let Tristan into our home — our sanctuary. I had allowed the distraction.

Once again, my decision had led to someone I love getting hurt. And this time, it could very well cost Modnik her life.

I rubbed my hand over my eyes and did my best to will the white flashes in my vision to stop and the sharp pain to abate. I simply didn’t have the time or energy to deal with a headache. Three days. That’s the exact amount of time I would suffer if a migraine did appear. Taking the bottle of pain meds from my pocket, I downed two more of them.

My entire body felt bruised, bit, scratched, stitched, broken or otherwise injured in some way, but there was nothing to do but work through the pain. I muttered a curse. Twenty years old and I’m falling apart. Partly from the job, partly from the undue amount of stress I inflicted on myself.

“How are they holding up?” Jace murmured behind me causing me to jump.

“Jace!” I whispered angrily. “You scared me.”

He leaned around me to glance at the cubs curled into one another on the bed, seeking comfort in one another since their mother was unable to provide it.

“Sorry.” He handed me a bottle of water and gestured to the cubs. “How are they?”

“As good as can be expected,” I suppose. I reached down to stroke the soft heads of the two kittens. Tau moved under my touch, then curled in closer to his sister, tucking his nose under his tail.

“It seems… unjust.”

I nodded sadly, then whispered, “What did the doc say?”

“He’s keeping her sedated for now. She needs rest.” He moved past me to close the large windows. “He was able to reattach the ear, and the abdominal injuries weren’t as bad as they appeared. She’s got several puncture wounds and a crushed windpipe, but he’s got her on antibiotics and pain meds. It’s just…” he shrugged, the worry etched across his face. “Well, you know how cats respond to pain.”

I nodded. Cats of all species were notorious for their inability to respond to pain medicine. And that’s when you could tell they even needed it. Most of the time, they would seek out a warm, dark place to lie quietly, nursing their injuries and doing their best not to show weakness.

“He’ll stay the night and see how she’s doing in the morning. The biggest problem is infection, but between Aida and the doc nursing her back to health, I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. “What happened back there, Jace?”

He held out a hand to pull me up from the bed, then placed his arm over my shoulders, guiding me to the door. We moved down the hall.

“You saw it happen, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “Everything was fine. She had him completely under control until the second she drew blood. That was when she lost it. That millisecond of hesitation was all the cougar needed. It moved so… fast.”

“Can you bring the security footage up to my office?”

“It’s already cued and ready for your viewing pleasure.”

I nodded my thanks. “What did you do with Tristan?”

“We tried to get him off the property, but he said he wasn’t leaving until he spoke with you. He said he had important information. So we weren’t sure how hard you wanted us to push him.”

“So where is he now?”

“In your office. Brock’s with him.”

“Okay. I need to deal with him and review that footage. Will you stay with the cubs?”

“Of course. He touched my hand, a smile of strength and encouragement crossing his face before he left me alone in the hall. A heavy silence had descended throughout the house and it felt empty — eerie — as I moved through it. I had never thought of our home as somber, but that’s the only word that described it right now.

I hesitated before placing both hands on the lever handles of the heavy oak doors and took a deep breath. The last thing I wanted to do right now was to deal with Tristan, but if he really had answers, that’s what I needed to focus on.

Our intruder sat in the easy chair that swallowed me up whenever I sat in it, but he made it look like a miniature with his large shoulders and long legs. Brock sat on the couch, his arm behind his head as he watched Tristan with suspicious eyes. If I didn’t know Brock so well, I would have said he was completely unaffected.

But I knew better.

And yet, the way Tristan had handled everything that had occurred this evening made him seem like more of a good guy. Not someone I would ever trust, but at least tolerable enough to sit in the same room with him. What a difference a few hours can make.

Brock scooted over as I entered, making room for me as I sank into the soft leather of the sofa and leaned against him. He placed a protective arm over my shoulders.

Tristan stared at us over a bottle of tequila. Patron, my favorite, and a bottle that had obviously been liberated from my private stock. Pulling the stopper, he took a long swig and held the bottle out to us.

Today I had very nearly lost two members of my family due to my own carelessness, and I still had no idea where Bren was. I had been tasked with one responsibility — to protect my pack — and I couldn’t even do that right.

Alcohol was the last thing on my mind…

“You couldn’t have stopped it, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Acknowledging my dismissal, he set the bottle on the desk between us.

“Stopped what?”

“Stopped your family from being attacked. Stopped your friends from disappearing. Stopped your jaguar mama from being chewed up and spat out.”

I rewarded his attempt at civility with a look of disdain. “If I hadn’t been dealing with you, I might have had a chance at stopping it.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged, ignoring Brock’s low warning growl, and poured a shot glass full of the amber liquid. “Maybe not. Either way, what’s done is done.”

I sat a little straighter. “You need to talk more and drink less. Start with what happened back there.”

“SCNT, if I’m not mistaken.”

“A smell did this,” Brock laughed sarcastically. He turned to me, “This is ridiculous, Alex.”

“It’s an acronym, wolf man. S-C-N-T.” Tristan turned his gaze to meet my own. I felt Brock tense beneath me. Placing a hand on his knee, I willed him to let it go.

“And what is S-C-N-T?” I asked calmly.

“Somatic Cell Nuclear Transplant.” He took another swig of the expensive tequila.

I shook my head, confused. “What does that even mean? And what does it have to do with Modnik?”

He sighed, a long exasperated sound that signified he was attempting to be patient. “You’ve heard about cloning?”

“Sure.” I nodded, looking at Brock. “Dolly the sheep, Carbon Copy the cat. I think the Koreans were getting into some glow-in-the-dark cats for resale. From what I understand, they stopped doing it because it was too unstable.”

“Your pack is unstable.
Biotechnology
, is not.” His gray eyes flashed. “That cougar you just met is a clone. The one I brought over tonight is a clone.”

“How do you figure that?” I asked. “They weren’t identical.”

He nodded. “They’re identical on a cellular level and that’s all that matters. It’s similar to twins or triplets — even that freak human who gave birth to a litter—”

“Octomom,” Brock interrupted.

Tristan glared at him. “Whatever. They all supposedly came from the same cell, but I’m sure if you ask her, she’ll tell you they look and act completely different.”

“Clones don’t explain Modnik’s reaction,” I observed. “She should have been able to handle both of them, not get her ass kicked by one."

Unless something else was going on.

The only time I had seen Modnik lose a fight was in Costa Rica — when she was terrified of her captors. Fear had kept her from escape. And there was only one man she feared that much. I kept my thoughts to myself, despite the shiver that raced through my body. There were few things I feared in life, but Diego Jimenez was one of them.

And according to Richard, he was still alive...

Tristan shrugged. “All I know is that Parallax contracts out with the government on various projects. One of those branches involves cloning and modification.”

“The government?” I asked. “And what do you mean by
modification
? Why would the government be involved in cloning?”

“You suffer from a serious lack of creativity.” He smirked. “I could think of a dozen uses for a clone — creating a way to control various aspects of government, controlling the opposition in wartime, creating the perfect soldier, cloning the President to insure control.”

I shook my head. “You’ve got to be kidding me… Cloning the President?”

He lifted his glass in a mock toast. “Your tax dollars at work. Now, think about the most dangerous predator you know.”

“The human race,” I quipped without hesitation.

“Now combine a human’s natural tendency for destruction with the natural abilities of, for example, a bear. Or a wolf. Or a cougar.”

I considered the question. In terms of military personnel, a person could essentially control every aspect of government if they were to start cloning Weres — half human, half animal. By combining a well-trained soldier who is naturally inclined to follow orders and an aggressive combination of werecreatures, they could breed their way into a perfect weapon.

“We suspect they’ve established a type of preternatural DNA bank to create the perfect shape-shifting entity.”

I felt my jaw drop. “Wait — what?” I stammered.

Tristan confirmed my fears with a nod. “It’s still in the exploratory stage, but it’s some slick technology. It’s new science though, and it has its problems…”

“Chimeras,” I gasped. Daniel was the first image that sprung to mind. It all fit together. The fact that I could understand him, hear him. He was the government’s first success. He held the key.

“Who are
they
?” Brock asked, his voice quiet as he processed the information.


They
is Parallax.” Tristan replied.

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