Chapter
Twelve
“What the hell are you doing?” James growled at
Birkie. Sparks of iridescent green flashed in his blue eyes, a sure
sign of an enraged Changeling. “Why are you talking to the damn
wolf instead of me?”
She didn’t flinch, didn’t flicker an
eyelash, but regarded him gravely. “You heard
nothing?”
“Not a goddamn word and you know
it.”
“No.” She shook her head, surprise
evident in her face. “I didn’t know it. I knew there was some
schism between you and your inner wolf, but I didn’t know it was
like this. I’ve never seen this before, and I’ve studied
Changelings for a very long time.”
He clenched and unclenched his fists,
trying to regain control of himself. “I’ve had enough of the wolf
taking over whenever the hell it feels like it.”
“I imagine so. And I have an idea as to
what the problem may be. A Changeling’s human side is in control no
matter what form he’s in. That’s the rule. But you know from
Changeling history that there are a couple of exceptions to that
rule. Important exceptions.”
The anger began to ebb. James took a
deep breath, then another. Considered. The wolf could rise
involuntarily in any Changeling to ensure their survival. The wolf
might also come out to defend a mate. “I don’t get it. Those
situations don’t apply to me, not now.”
“I’ll bet they do, just not the way you
might think. Believe it or not, the wolf is on your side. It’s
looking out for you, protecting you. Ensuring your
survival.”
“But that makes no sense. I’m not in
any danger. I have survived.”
“Depends on how you define survival.
How a wolf defines survival.”
James shook his head. “I’m not sure
what you’re getting at.”
“Evelyn died. It was horrible, it was
unfair, it was wrong, but it happened. You were mortally wounded.
What was your first impulse when you realized she was
gone?”
He was silent, though he knew it would
do him no good.
“You wanted to follow her, didn’t you?
Of course you did, that’s a natural impulse. But what did the wolf
do?”
Ah, damn. James
sat heavily and stared at the floor. “It took over.”
“It had to, to save your life. Believe
me, I know. When the Pack found you, Jessie called me to come and
help if I could. I saw what had happened to you, James. You were
hit by a shotgun, twice, at fairly close range.” Her voice was
grim, but she stood beside him, put a gentle hand on his shoulder,
the shoulder that had been wounded. “It’s a miracle you didn’t die
outright. And if you’d remained in human form, you would have died
for sure. Your wolf knew that.
“Changing in that condition could have
killed you too, of course, but your wolf is very strong,
you’re very strong. You got through it and
the shift stopped a lot of the bleeding, bought you some time until
we could work on you.”
He sat quietly for several moments,
staring off into the past and absently running his fingers over the
places where the wounds had been. Finally, he looked up at her. “I
didn’t know that. I don’t remember much after the Change, but I
guess I should say thanks.” He sighed. “But I’m not wounded, and
I’m not in danger now. I’m trying to see it, Birkie, but I just
can’t make any connection between that situation and
this.”
“You’re not thinking like a wild wolf,
a real wolf, especially an alpha wolf. What does a wild alpha wolf
do if it loses its mate? Does it spend the rest of its life
alone?”
Apprehension prickled the hair on the
back of his neck. “It’s not the same, Birkie.”
“The wolf will mourn his mate, but then
he’ll go on with his life. Survival means going on with your life
in all ways.”
“It doesn’t apply here.” Suddenly he
realized where she was going with this, and his voice took on a
warning note. “Birkie—”
She ignored him. “The wolf finds
another mate because he isn’t designed to be alone. Your wolf has
found one. I should say you’ve found one,
but only your lupine side seems to have recognized
her.”
“No.” He got up, backed up, knocked
over the chair. Pointed at her and shook his head. “No. Don’t tell
me that, goddammit! You’ve got it all wrong.” Dishes clattered
noisily to the floor as he backed into the counter.
“Why do you think the wolf is so
focused on Jillian? Why do you think it took steps to find her and
ensure her survival years ago, just as it’s working to ensure yours
now?”
“Jesus Murphy, Birkie!” Was the woman
deaf? “How many times do I have to say I’m not interested in
Jillian? And I’m especially not interested in having my wolf side
pick out women for me.”
“You’re not interested or you don’t
want to be interested?”
“I can’t be interested,
goddammit!”
“Son.” She caught his gaze and held it.
“I know you miss Evelyn, and part of you is always going to miss
her. But surely you know that she wouldn’t want you to spend your
entire life mourning her and never moving on.”
Her eyes were unwavering, the soul
within them ancient. He felt like an unruly child and it pissed him
off even further. Still, he fought to stay in control, to be civil.
“I know you’re trying to help, Birkie,” he said through gritted
teeth, “but you don’t understand.”
“What I understand, son, is that you’ve
already spent thirty years alone. And I understand that you fully
intend to spend the next thirty like that too.”
He moved toward the door but she was in
front of it. “You don’t get it. I can’t be with anyone. Not
Jillian, not anybody. I can’t do that to someone
again.”
“Do what, James?” she asked
quietly.
Pain hoarsened his voice, wrenched the
words from him. “Evelyn’s dead because of me. Didn’t you know that,
Birkie, didn’t you see that in your goddamn crystal ball? It’s my
fault. Some bastard killed her because she married a
Changeling.”
“You don’t know that.”
He took a step toward her, then
another. Leaned down until he was nose to nose with her. Although
his words were quiet and deliberate, there was a terrible certainty
to them that struck like a hammer blow. “Instinct tells me that. My
gut tells me that. I do know it and I know I
brought that to her. It’s my fault she’s dead. I won’t do that to
someone again. Not to Jillian. Not to anyone.”
James pushed past her then. He could
hear Birkie calling after him, but he ignored it. Rude or not, he
had had enough of human concerns and human manners and human
emotions and human goddamn everything. He had the necessary
clothes, he’d had enough conversation to last him years, and he’d
had more than enough of his wolf dictating his life. He was done
with it all and especially with Jillian Descharme. He was going to
do what he should have done on Day One, which was the right thing,
the best thing, the safest thing for her. Get out of her
life.
He strode quickly, purposefully down
the hall, intent on reaching the back door. It was still light
outside, but he knew he could duck into the thick stand of trees
near the building. There would be enough cover there to Change
and—
He ran straight into
Jillian.
Jillian rubbed the back of her head
where it had struck the floor and looked around for the bus that
had hit her. Instead she saw James Macleod. For a moment he just
stared back, then knelt quickly beside her.
“Did I hurt you? Are you all right?
Christ, I’m sorry.”
“I’m fine I think. Hey, don’t you know
the local speed limit is 25?” She sat up and reached for the papers
that had spewed out of the folder she was carrying, but he was
already gathering them—or trying to. For every one he managed to
pick up, two flew farther away.
“I didn’t see you. I said I was sorry.”
He looked at her hard, as if daring her to disagree.
“You don’t look sorry, you look angry.”
The intensity of his eyes was like a physical punch, almost making
her dizzy. Still, she could swear there was something behind them,
something that pulled at her. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Nothing.”
She saw it then. Like twin lightning
flashes, sadness and deep pain played across his rugged face. Then
the fierce frown returned.
He seized the last of the papers and
stuffed them into the folder, handed it to her. “I’m just in a
hurry, that’s all.”
“Well, hell, don’t let me keep you.”
She reached over to the wall, intending to stand. Then powerful
hands gently caged her waist. She was lifted up and set on her feet
as if she weighed exactly nothing. The hands lingered. She could
feel the strength behind them, yet sensed also that the immense
force was deliberately tempered, carefully reined. James was close,
so close that she could feel the heat from his body and suddenly
she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, could only look up into his
face.
He released her so abruptly that
Jillian lost her balance and landed on her butt, hard. Every
individual vertebra from stem to stern protested the jolt. She
swore, but it was at empty air. James was gone. Just gone. All she
saw was the door swinging shut at the far end of the
building.
She was still sitting there,
dumbfounded and staring at the door, when Birkie rushed up behind
her. “My heavens, girl, are you hurt? What happened?”
“I’m fine, I’m okay,” she said as
Birkie insisted on helping her up. “I’ve just had another close
encounter of the James kind.”
“Swept you right off your feet, I
see.”
“Ha. Dumped me on my ass is more like
it.” She went to straighten her clothes and realized she was still
in her dirty coveralls. Rubbed the back of her head and discovered
a sizable lump had developed where she had banged it on the floor.
Shit! “You think that’s strange, you should
have been with me on my last call. Why are men so damn
weird?”
“They can’t help it. They’re wired that
way.” Birkie stepped back, hands on hips and surveyed Jillian. “How
long will it take you to shower and change?”
“For a good cause, fifteen minutes or
less. Finer Diner?”
“Frankly, I was thinking the Jersey
Pub. I need a cold beer, hon. And I’m betting you could use one
too.”
“God, yes! And a plate of nachos to go
with it. I’ll be ready in ten.” She hurried down the hallway to her
apartment, paused halfway in the door. “You know, if I had to
guess, I’d think that James has a split personality. He can be so
nice sometimes but other times, he’s got to be the strangest man
I’ve ever met in my life.” She disappeared into her
apartment.
Birkie shook her head. “Honey, you
don’t know the half of it.”