Blood Trade

bluish tint that had penetrated the pattern carved into the wood, making the bird feet stand out sharply. The term came to me from high school art history class: counter-relief, or intaglio. Weird to remember that. I had sucked at art.

Misha had been in that class. She had taken to art like a bird to the air, freed by all the media, all the things she could shape and change and bring to beauty. All the things she could control. Unlike the rest of her life, which was out of her control. Like me, Misha had gone to regular counseling. I had gone for the experts to keep tabs on me and try to poke holes in the curtain of memory loss. I wondered why Misha had gone. I had no idea. I also had no idea why I had taken the photo. It had nothing to do with beauty or art. It had everything to do with the woman in the print calling out to me.

I sighed and set the picture facedown on the bed, reaching for the phone. It hadn’t rung, and I held it, waiting. Leo wanted to chat and my bound Beast knew it. It was childish, but I let it chime twice before I punched SEND. “Hi, Leo.” Beast started to purr and rolled over on her side. I could feel the power of her breath rumbling through me.

“What have you done to my heir’s house?” he spat.

I could tell his three-inch fangs had dropped down and he was talking through and around them. “Good to speak with you too,” I said, not because it was true, but to yank his chain. “Hope you are well and chipper and all that. How’s business?” Leo was raised in a more proper time, and when he forgot or ignored the niceties it gave me an opening for insult and snark. He didn’t give me many.

“What. Have. You. Done. With my heir’s house?”

“Ahhh.” I relaxed onto the bed, understanding. I had modified the house I was using in New Orleans and I hadn’t exactly asked permission. Part of the modifications were to take over Leo’s secret lair and make it into a combo safe room and weapons room. “I take it you paid me a visit?”

“There is silver everywhere.”

“Guns too. And ammo. And things that go bang.”

“Silver in my lair,” he grated.

“Yeah. Sorry ’bout that,” I lied, and made sure he could hear that I wasn’t sorry at all.

Leo growled low in his throat; Beast rolled, pulling her paws beneath her, ready to pounce or flee. “My house, Leo,” I said, “for the duration of my stay in New Orleans, as per my contract. No one said I couldn’t redecorate.”

The silence was too long, that potent silence the really old vamps can do, because they don’t breathe or have a heartbeat. “We have much to discuss, my Enforcer.”

“Yeah. I guess we do. I’ll see you when I get back to New Orleans. Meantime, stay out of my house.” I hit END and smiled slightly. Bet that ticked off the MOC.

Beast yawned deep inside and rolled back over. I frowned at her. Beast? You didn’t go nuts at the sound of Leo’s voice. What gives?

Beast is not chaser of squirrels.

It took a moment to realize that she was responding to my go nuts phrasing.

Fast chase, small bite, crunch and gone, she thought. And Beast is still hungry.

But you didn’t get . . . I let the thought trail off. For the first time since Beast was accidently bound to Leo, she wasn’t all Pet me, mate me, rub my tummy with Leo. In fact, she’d been calm. She had gotten good at batting away the magics used against her.

Fierce joy shuddered through me like an earthquake. The urge to shift slammed through like an aftershock. I hadn’t shifted in so long, afraid of what Beast would do, afraid of losing myself to her binding to the Master of the City. I needed to shift. I needed the healing and the strength that shifting could offer, the renewal. I had denied my nature longer than at any time since I rediscovered my shifting ability when I was eighteen. And I had shoved that need so far down, so deep, that it exploded upward now, as if under pressure, desperate.

I stood, gathered my go-bag, and made my way out of the house, out into the last hours of the night. There were no stones here, not the kind I needed. And then I remembered the pink marble mounting block and made my way to it. It was well hidden beneath the overgrowth of shrubs and the low branches of the tree overhead, and when I climbed deep into the brush, I was hidden from the house. On my knees, I stripped, dropping my clothes in a heap, and strapped the go-bag around my neck with my gold nugget necklace and the mountain lion tooth I had wired to the gold chain. Naked, chill bumps rising on my skin, I bent to the stone and rubbed the nugget over the marble, depositing a small scrape of gold, a homing beacon if I got lost in this unfamiliar place.

I sat on the cold marble, the stone burning its frozen way into my skin, and grabbed the tooth like the talisman it was. I’d been afraid to shift for months. Now, suddenly, all I wanted was to shift and run and hunt and kill something. I blew out a breath and closed my eyes. And thought of the snake that rests at the center of every cell of every animal. The snake that is the RNA of creation. I sought the snake of form that was my Beast. The mountain lion. The Puma concolor.

•   •   •

I dropped front paws down to ground, back paws still on stone, and stretched hard, feeling new muscles and weight. Jane had lifted metal things and grunted like dog, sweated like horse; she had made me bigger big-cat. I looked over muscular shoulders at body and twitched long, thick tail. I was strong. I was big! Jane was good.

I looked at house and saw human-shaped form on back porch. Watching Beast. It was Bruiser. Bruiser had watched Jane shift into Beast. Bruiser knew all of Jane’s secrets now. I chuffed my displeasure and caught his scent on night air. Bruiser had changed. His scent was no longer Leo’s scent. Bruiser smelled of power and youth and many things that were good. But Bruiser was no longer bound to Leo as he had been. Bruiser was not blood-servant now. Bruiser was other. And full of power.

And now Beast was bound to Leo. I chuffed with amusement. We had changed places.

I turned and leaped into the limbs of tree with winter leaves. Walked along limb. Leaped to top of brick fence and over, into dark. I lifted snout into wind and smelled big water, river, name twisting like snake. It was too far to walk, but close to ride. Beast needed truck heading to sunset. I trotted along road, watching for truck, feeling new weight and power and mass in body and limbs. Jane did good. Jane did very good.

Trucks were few and I walked long before I saw/heard truck in distance, growling like Leo, eyes bright like twin stars, going toward river. I jumped into tree and crouched. Thinking. Beast will have to land lightly, or new mass will rock truck, like throwing prey to its knees. I crouched, and when truck was beneath I leaped forward, in direction of truck and landed lightly, scrabbling with paw and claws on truck top until balance was found. Then I settled, snout to the air, smelling, mouth open, lips stretched back to show killing teeth to world. Beast is big! Beware of Beast!

•   •   •

Truck stopped before reaching river, roaring heart gone silent. I landed in shadows at tail of truck. But truck had no tail. Not even boar tail or bison tail. No tail at all. Truck had no blood and had bones of metal. Was alive and not alive. Still did not understand. I wandered off into night, following wind that called to me of fish and water and river birds asleep on banks.

World fell away before and below. River with snaky name was down cliffs, farfarfar. Much farther across river was land—city of Vidalia—and man lights, to steal vision. But here night was greens and silvers and grays; water was rich and powerful, rising with mist on chilled air. I liked twisty big water. Scented water birds on air and alligator and fish and human smells of gas and oil and stinky breath of trucks and boats. One long boat floated below, calling lonesome into dark. Boat was barge. Remembered barge from hunger times. Sick and dying humans on board as it floated by. I snorted at remembered stink of putrid flesh.

Opened mouth to cleanse away stink memory, pulling in river air over roof of mouth with soft screee of sound. Flehmen behavior, Jane called scenting. Upstream, smelled human town of Natchez. Below, smelled/saw/tasted water. Had not rushed down cliff in many moon times, and this cliff had no rock to secure landing. But did have trees and roots and places to land/leap.

I spotted a limb far down cliff face and gathered body close, paws together beneath belly. Leaped. Extending front legs and front claws. Landed and pushed again, jumping to small root, too small for Beast mass, landed and pushed again, hearing old root crack and break. Body flying like bird, fastfastfast, downdowndown, hit log buried in up-and-down mud with front paws and shoved, twisting body, whirling tail for balance. Go-bag slid and bumped