Ilona Andrews own the Kate Daniels series.
A/N: Seleyda's adventures continue...
Un-beta'd
Chapter 10 - Day Two
I woke to te familiar discomfort of a knife sheathed on my right wrist. Birds sang in the branches around me, welcoming the sun. I remembered reading somewhere that birds could see the sun rise an hour earlier than humans. An hour before dawn, then. I yawned as I got up. I jumped down to the ground. The birds peered down curiously at me. I waved and walked towards the only tent in the clearing.
Raphael was sleeping inside. Beads of sweat broke on his forehead. Sweat's good. It mean his body's fighting off the residual blood in the system. And winning. I sat by a shallow dent I'd made last night. The soil was damp. I drained it of its water, pouring it into a chipped dish Julie had found. A soft rag hung on the lip. I soaked it in the water and wring it dry, patting it on his forehead. His hair was raven black; I'd only noticed it now. I was too busy before - planning the battle, fighting, re-strategising - and then too tired to bother. I remembered his eyes were blue; a bright, brilliantly flashing colour that could take the breath away from anyone between sixteen and sixty. Strange how that didn't pass on. His eyelashes were unbelievably long; I'd inherited that. I didn't get the lips though, his were full and luscious. Nothing like mine. I flushed slightly. This isn't my dad, I told myself. It's my uncle. So what if we look a little alike?
"I can feel you staring," he whispered, eyes closed.
I rolled my eyes, but couldn't stop smiling. "Good morning, Raphael."
"It's 'Uncle' and you know it," he drawled. He cracked open one eye. "Morning, sunshine." I stared at him, stunned. Sunshine? " Anything for your poor old uncle to eat?"
"You're neither poor nor old," I retorted. It was ruined by the laughter in my voice. "I need to check your wounds first." I pulled out my trusty old knife and began sawing through the bandages. Raphael stared at me, slightly shocked.
"Looks like you'd got the Medrano tenacity as well, eh?" He muttered to himself. I pretended not to hear. Hearing what others don't mean for you to can scare people off, you know. I stopped. "How is it? Another day of rest, ma'am?" Raphael sounded light-hearted, almost cheery.
New, bright red skin glared angrily at me. "No, but you'll have to stay here till late afternoon. I'm leaving the renders here to protect the grounds." He struggled to rise. I gave him the look; you know the one. He stopped. "I used an extremely potent brew on you-"
"No wonder it tasted so bad, " Raphael quipped.
"-It heals wounds within an excessively short amount of time, but in return the host must rest for at least twenty-four hours before going on any activity that's considered strenuous. You'll die of heart failure within the first swing, and excessive bleeding by your last breath. Please don't ruin all the work I've done to save your ass."
Raphael grumbled, but settled back down. "You sound like the Pack healer, Doolittle."
I raised an eyebrow. "Obviously a very wise man." Not to mention that the compound I'd brewed contains magically altered arsenic. "I'll get you breakfast in a moment." I bent my head and focused on carefully pulling off the dirty bandages. He winced a few times, but didn't move. A surprisingly tolerant man, given the propensity for the females to spoil the male children in bouda society, or maybe it's a bouda thing. My impression of him got an extra few points higher. Any more and he'll hit the ceiling.
"I didn't see it before, but you look a hell of a lot like Angelique. Your father's colouring makes it harder, though, to see it. Were you blonde-haired as a child?" He suddenly asked. I jerked upright, accidentally ripping the last bit of bandage off. "Ouch!"
"Sorry," I said absently. The new skin held. "Why do you ask?"
He tried to shrug. "Argh. Just...trying to picture you as a child," he managed through gritted teeth. There was a tightness around his eyes. "Must've been a...cute little blond angel, huh?" I pulled out a small clay pot and slathered its contents on the thin skin. Raphael relaxed a little, letting out a sigh of relief. "Thanks." He smiled. I blinked a few times. Whoa.
"I wasn't blonde," I said quietly. "I was raven-haired, and my eyes were green." Raphael gaped at me in shock, looking at me from head to toe. What the hell happened? He seemed to ask. "I'd single-handedly massacred an entire town when I was younger. I don't remember much, but I woke up with blonde hair and grey eyes."
"They're not grey."
"What?"
He peered at me. "Your eyes. They aren't fully grey. There's a touch of green to it."
"You know my mother?" Raphael snorted. "Sorry. Stupid question. But, could you tell me about her?" He looked stunned. I flushed. A hard lump formed at the back of my throat. Damn it. "She'd died when I was two." And I've been slaughtering things ever since.
"Well, rem, she was very beautiful." I snorted, rolling my eyes. "No, really. In fact, it was one of the reasons why the Beast Lord took a fancy for her."
"What! Mom was married to Curran?" The God Destroyer?
"No! They were engaged!" I took a sigh of relief. Thank God. "His Furry Majesty still loves her, I think. He visits a grave he'd erected in her honour when the year-mark had passed, on her birthday." So he'd filed a missing persons report. "Speaking of birthdays, what's yours?"
"July twenty-eighth, twenty twenty-five." I gestured for him to continue. He eyed the chipped jar holding water. I poured a cup and slowly let him sip some.
"Thanks." He cleared his throat. "She was very stubborn. I remember watching her fight with Aunt Lexie. and Dan as a favourite hobby. She'd shifted young, about ten or so, but before that she showed lots of potential for human magic. Reading minds, levitating objects and such. Her powers got stronger when she was older." He suddenly laughed, remembering something. "I remember there was this one time Aunt Lexie had accidentally thrown away a favourite book series of hers. She'd gotten so angry she'd shattered every window in the house. "I laughed along with him.
I sobered almost immediately. That explains it. "What's wrong?"
"I, erm, seemed to have inherited that gift." He looked surprised. "Yeah, me too. Mine seems to be stronger, though. Can't control it all the time." Raphael had a look of horror on his face.
"You're not trained?" I shook my head. "Why the hell not?" Because I was raised in a town of crazies and loups. Yeah, that'll get him an instant apoplexy.
"My mother was busy trying to spell away the danger. I'd fell so many times into those damned things I'd become almost immune to them. They'd have to be either very strong or very old to keep me out." Raphael looked shell-shocked.
Oops.
"I was a, erm, fairly curious kid," I admitted. No response. "Raphael?" I waved a hand over his eyes. "Hellooo? Anybody home?"
"How the hell did you manage to survive till now?"
I shrugged. "I tried to be very careful." He barked out a laugh.
The tent flap shifted behind me. I tensed. A familiar sweet scent hit me. Julie. She sat down beside me. Raphael's eyes lit up when he saw her. Julie greeted him. I turned to look at her. Caramel streaked with gold hair pulled up into a ponytail. A flawless oval face with a sharp chin. Deep brown eyes fringed with long dark lashes.
She looked at me. "What?"
I felt the edges of my mouth twitch. "Nothing."
The elf-baby glared at me. "Go on, laugh." See if I care.
"You look like your father," I commented instead. She blinked.
"What?"
"Curran, the Beast Lord. Your father."
"He's not my dad." Pain filled her eyes. "My father was a carpenter in the Carpenter's Guild." Huh. Must've missed that. My informant's been...lazy.
"I'm sorry." I tried to think of something else to say. "At least you had a chance to know him."
"And you didn't?" Julie asked. She leaned closer, curiosity getting the better of her. "Did he die?"
"I don't even know the answer to that," I replied wryly. "Momma was a very...private person. She'd told me she'll tell me everything on my eighteenth birthday." Didn't live long enough to cash in that promise.
Julie blinked. "You're not eighteen?"
"Nope." She squinted her eyes at me.
"Are you wearing makeup?" I laughed, shaking my head. "Well, you look older. Old enough to have kids." I winced. "What?"
"Eighteen's too young to have kids." If I even live to the age. I shook off the depressive thought.
"Now you sound like Kate."
"Which is a good thing. She knows what she's talking about." I straightened. Muted shouts sounded from beyond the tent. Neither Julie nor Raphael reacted. Crap. I'd erected a healing circle around the tent; including low levels of anti-magic afternotes. "Stay here with Raphael," I ordered.
"What-" Julie started. I didn't hear her question as I left the tent. The circle parted. The noise hit me like a wrecking ball.
Chaos ensued in the clearing. A mud brown baby hyena jumped about, biting, hissing and snarling at the shifters. Could it be? The wind suddenly came, pushing my scent towards the young shapeshifter. It bared its small fangs at me, ruby eyes flashing with human intelligence. One of the adult shapeshifter managed to cuff him. The young hyena was thrown back.
Come and see! Come and see the newest addition! Marked by the Death God and born in the shadows! Ladies and gentlemen, the Silver...BEAST!
Mommie, it's so ugly!
It's a thing of monstrosity, Maddie.
Look, it's growling at me! Do you think it understands what I'm saying, Da?
Pay five rubies and get a photograph with it! Ten for a five-minute ride!
Wwwahh!
Hush, child. Don't show fear to the animal. They can smell it, you know.
Mommie, I'm scared.
I gritted my teeth. When will Ivanovsky finally leave me alone? I took a deep, steadying breath. "Enough!" I roared. The shouts and screams silenced. The young hyena tried to bite the shapeshifter's leg; the same one that'd cuffed him. I let the anger seep into my eyes. "Stop."
He froze. He whimpered.
"Down," I commanded.
The boy-hyena sat with a soft thump. He keened. I walked towards him. He tried to scamper away. My eyes kept him rooted to his place, and I could see his pupils dilate from fear. That's to be expected. I was just as frightened as him when I returned.
"What the - "
My sword jumped into my hand. Its razor-sharp edge was a scant inch from the stupid jackal's throat. His Adam's apple bobbed nervously. The boy-hyena whimpered, slightly confused. Not quite human, not quite Wild. Fucking godammit. I didn't look away from the boy-hyena as I spoke to the lot of them. "The hyena you've been attacking is a shapeshifter. He's very young, and got himself stuck in the Wild. I'm trying to get him back to his birth form." If he can even remember it. "If you value your lives, keep your fat mouths shut and eyes peeled open. No. Sudden. Moves."
I didn't bother waiting for a confirmation. They didn't deserve that much. The boy-hyena's pupils dilated further. I quickly sheathed my sword and scooted closer, releasing my grip on his mind. He whined but remained where he was, his ears pricked up with curiosity. Human intelligence flickered in those ruby eyes. Good. I pulled out a small bag of handmade sweets and poured a few out. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ascanio open his mouth to make another one of his patented snarky remarks. Trust me; you hear one, you hear them all.
Quick as lightning, Derek elbowed him in the gut and Julie stomped on his foot. A spasmed looked of surprise, hatred and anger twisted Ascanio's face. He fell backwards, and began moaning to himself in pain. Derek stomped on his stomach once. Ascanio quieted.
The hyena didn't notice. Thank God. He took a careful step forward, his nose furiously sniffing the air. Come out, come out, kitty. I stayed in my place, hand open with a few coloured sweets. He whined a little, ruby eyes flickering towards the shapeshifter morons surrounding us.
"They won't hurt us," I promised. I tried to exuded warmth and protection; not exactly my strongest assets. The boy-hyena peered at me curiously. My shape mad me human, but my scent made me Pack.
It confused him, just as it confused most shapeshifters. I looked too human. Smelled too Wild.
He trotted a few steps to me. His eyes were hungrily fixated on my sweets. A rush of pity hit me. Did I look that mad? Was I so feral? Had Pooki seen this, when he found me? The boy-hyena carefully sniffed me, again, slowly trusting. He looked thin. Too thin.
"Get some meat," I ordered in a low voice. "He's going to need food for the transformation." The jackal from before, the one I'd threatened, snapped into a crisp salute and went off like a rocket.
How strange.
A small wet nose prodded my hand. He whined. I shook my head. He whined again, the way hungry, neglected puppies did in abandoned alleys. The way I did, before I realized life was too busy watching the torture to care. "You know what to do."
He begged, whining pitifully. I steeled my heart against his puppy eyes. "No."
Sharp pain stabbed my arm. He'd bit me. I clamped down on my internal alarms, screaming at me to kill him. The boy-hyena chomped harder, shaking his head and aggravating the wound. It took all of my concentration not to snap, to give in to the wild side. Red eyes peered up at me. Curious. Still.
I raised my eyebrow sardonically. "You done?"
The boy released me. Blood gushed out of the wound. I let out a pained gust of air. My vision snapped into black for a moment. Crap. Not now. Warm wetness slathered itself over the open wound. It jarred my senses and gave me enough leeway to regain control of myself. I looked down. A fat pink tongue swirled over the fang bite, catching ever drop of the crimson liquid. What was more surprising was the fact that the tongue belonged to a dirty, mud-encrusted boy with black hair and eyes. His limbs were decorated with scars.
"What's your name?" I asked softly.
Big dark eyes aged by experience and the Wild looked up at me. Uncomprehending.
"Milo." A small dent appeared between his eyebrows. "Milo Ferrara."
I looked at a shell-shocked Ascanio. "Congratulations."