Coyote's Howl (Cape High Series Book 17), page 11
“No, it shouldn’t,” she says, running a glowing hand over the paper. “Go get me some tile from the empty dorm building, please? I’ll let you choose the color and everything.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I say, heading out of the room.
***
“You smell like blood,” Coyote says as his brother steps into the clearing. Coyote is sitting on a fallen log, smoking his tobacco pipe. It’s his spare—he’d left his favorite at the house. “Where have you been?”
“Going to and fro on the earth,” Badmoon says.
“You dare to quote that to me?” Coyote says, his eyes narrowing.
“You’re the one that’s decided that I’m Satan,” Badmoon replies. “The only reason you’re even helping me now is to try and keep shame away from the family name, isn’t it?”
Coyote says nothing, just takes a long puff off of his pipe, blowing a smoke ring. “I am making a decision,” he says after the silence seems to stretch out.
“That boy is going through the transition,” Badmoon says.
“Yes, I know.”
“What will you do if he becomes the next Coyote?”
“I will accept it,” Coyote says. “You will accept it, as well.” It wasn’t a question, it was an order.
“I’m getting sick and tired of that attitude, little brother,” Badmoon says, his lips curling back to show his elongated canines.
“Do you really think I will let you kill the next Coyote?” Coyote asks, getting to his feet. “Mixed or not, if he regains his abilities, it means the Creator has chosen him as my successor.”
“If your Creator has chosen that whiny brat, then it’s just more proof that he doesn’t exist!”
“You mock your own animal form, you abused your others when you had them,” Coyote says, getting to his feet, “you had no right to become the Coyote!”
“Of course I didn’t, we all know that. I was unworthy, just like Father always told me,” Badmoon says, his tone calming, his eyes growing cold. “That’s exactly why I can’t accept it if the brat becomes the next Coyote. He’s a mutt, just like me. If he’s not pure-blooded, he has no right to the title of Coyote!”
Coyote stares at him, not saying anything. At one time he’d thought that their father called Badmoon unworthy because of his actions, not his blood, but now he wonders. Their father had grown to hate the white man in his later years, and they both knew it. There had been too many lost fights, and lost lives. “We have no say in that,” he says, finally. “Whose blood is it that covers your hands?”
“Just an annoying bird’s,” Badmoon says, walking away. The threat of violence is still there. It lingers in the air, tainting it, just like the smell of blood does.
Coyote watches him, his eyes narrowing dangerously. He knows that smell. It wasn’t just a bird.
CHAPTER SIX
“So…” Taurus says. He’s sitting on the couch in the corner of the gigantic lab at Pan’s place. “What have you found?”
Pan looks up from what he’s doing with a slight frown on his face. “He is losing his forms,” he says.
“We realized that already. Have you figured out a way to make it stop?”
“I’ve been thinking of that,” Pan says slowly. “Lance’s mother is at the apartments, right now. From what Ken has learned from her, it seems that all of the line goes through this transition, right around this time in their life.”
“Fourteen?” Taurus asks. “What’s significant about that?”
“It’s a very important growth period for a teenage boy, especially. What happened when you were fourteen?”
“I grew about a foot taller over summer—but I didn’t really reach full size until I was in my twenties, so—”
“Yes, but right about fourteen is when the more dramatic growth starts in many boys. Especially when they’re a bit delicate looking, like Lance is. He should be shooting up any moment, now. What if…”
“You think his body is cutting out the animal forms so it can concentrate on his human form?” Taurus asks.
“You see what I’m thinking, then,” Pan says, smiling slightly at the younger man. “The only problem with this theory is that there are others from his line that never gain the abilities back.”
“Yeah,” Taurus says, frowning, only to blink and turn. “Is he going to pounce?” he asks quietly, his eyes glued to the boy perched in the shadows of the stairs.
“He’s only four years old,” Pan says, turning back to his computer. “Of course he’s going to pounce.”
Cubby lets out a wild roar and jumps almost ten feet to launch himself at Taurus. It startles a laugh out of Taurus as he wrestles with the little boy. “I give! I give!” he cries out dramatically a second later. Cubby gets to his feet and strikes a winner’s pose. “I’m surprised, though, I thought you’d be scared of a hero,” he says to the little boy, only to get an impish grin.
“Daddy’s right there,” Cubby points out, logically. He moves to Taurus’s side and grabs one of his dreadlocks, looking at it curiously.
“Are we going to be expecting any playmates for Cubby any time soon?” Amara asks, walking in with a tray of snacks and drinks. “I wasn’t sure if you drank milk, so I brought a pitcher of water, just in case,” she explains.
“Don’t drink milk?” Taurus asks.
“Well, you ARE a minotaur shifter,” Pan says.
“Milk is fine,” Taurus says. “It’s the steak that my dad eats that throws me off.”
“Your father eats steak?” Pan asks, startled into laughing.
“I stick to pork, chicken, and turkey,” Taurus says. “I even get turkey burgers whenever we have a barbecue.”
“I think you’re trying to avoid the real question,” Amara says in a sing-song tone. “From what I’ve heard from Prisma, you and Liz are quite the couple these days.”
“Well, I can bring my girls over sometime—Emily and Aubrey would love to play with Cubby, but as far as… ah… playmates go, we’re still not quite to that point, yet,” Taurus says. “Although Emily’s already picked a name if it’s a girl. She thinks we’ll name her Adora.”
“Adora?” Amara says. “That’s adorable!”
“No, it’s Adora-bull,” Taurus says, dryly pointing out the pun. “If we have Lance’s mother, can we bring her here?” he asks Pan. “If we don’t move quickly, Nico will have Star Born experimenting on the poor kid, and I don’t like it.”
“Neither do I,” Pan admits. “It might be a bit uncomfortable for her, with so many large cats in the place, but we can ask.”
“We need to do it quickly,” Taurus says, tapping on his earbud, even as Cubby drapes a handful of Taurus’s dreadlocks over his own head. “They suit you,” Taurus tells him with an indulgent smile.
“What suits me?” Nico asks over the earbud.
“Cubby was trying on my dreadlocks,” Taurus says. “Nico, we’d like to bring Lance’s mother to Pan’s place and study her genetics. We want to see if there’s a less… ‘Star Born’ way of doing things.”
“I’m building her cell right now,” Nico says. “That means you’ve got… oh, two days, more or less.”
“Then we should call America’s Son,” Pan says.
“It’s up to Lance’s mom if she comes with you or not—and as a warning, she seems to prefer her animal form.”
Pan and Taurus look at each other, their expressions almost mirroring one another’s. “We understand,” Taurus says. “I’ll call Ken.” He taps on the earbud and the room goes silent for a moment as they take that in.
“Can she… go back to human?” Amara asks quietly.
“There’s always the temptation for what’s happening,” Pan says, not answering that question just yet, “it’s much simpler being in your animal form. And when she lost her son…”
“Well, she’s got him back, now,” Taurus says. “She’ll have to relearn. Amara, can you come with us? Neither Pan nor I can speak anything other than our own species.”
“Of course,” Amara says. “Cubby, time to go for a little ride. Adanna! Honey, we’re going to your school! She was taking a nap,” she tells them. It sounds like she’s making this a family outing. Neither says a thing.
***
“This is the last place we saw him,” Rocco says as he pulls the last of the five black suits out of the shadows and into the grassy field. “He was attacking another super, so the sooner we find him, the better.”
“We understand,” one of the black suits says grimly, hefting the suitcase he’s holding. “Do you expect to find him here?” he asks. “That’s why you had us bring the collar, right?”
Rocco frowns, slightly. “The collar and gun are for just in case,” he says, turning and looking suspiciously at the woods that edge the field. “I thought we could get some fur or something to help with the genetic research. We know that he’s related to Lance, and he’s lost all but one of his forms. Sure, we have his mom, but the more we’ve got, the better, I figure. Also, if I can’t find him, we might be able to track him some other way, like with another animal shifter.”
“Sir, yes sir!” the black suits say. “Spread out and look for any fur you can find, or blood, if possible.”
Rocco nods, only half paying attention. He knows that Badmoon is here—he started sensing it almost as soon as they stepped out of the shadows. He’s watching from the shadows—he can feel it. He turns, his eyes skimming the woods behind him—and curses as a massive wolf jumps him, slamming him to the ground.
“NIGHTSTEP!” one black suit shouts, pulling out his gun and shooting the wolf. The bullet hits him, but it doesn’t seem to make an impact. Instead the wolf shifts, turning into a huge, hairy looking man. He grabs Rocco by the throat, holding him in the air.
“SHOOT ME!” he roars in Rocco’s face. Rocco pats his pockets, feeling lightheaded from being choked, and grabs onto his power blocking gun with relief. He brings it up, fumbling slightly for the trigger, only to have the gun ripped from his hand. He’s flung straight through the woods, where he slams into a line of trees, crashing through one after another before finally landing in the largest one. He shakes it off, taking a quick breath before racing back to the clearing.
The bodies of the black suits litter the ground. His heart stops for a second before he rushes forward to check pulses. “Nico! Century! ANYONE! I need ambulances! Three ambulances!” he says, checking another barely-there pulse. They’re going to die. “No, forget that, send me Aubrey!” he says.
“On it,” Nico replies.
“What happened?” Century demands.
“He stole my power blocking gun… and…” Rocco stops at the last of the black suits, “the collar that we brought just in case.” His mind speeds and he remembers what Badmoon had shouted. “He knew,” he says, stunned. “He knew that I had a power blocking gun.”
“How?” Nico asks from behind him. Aubrey rushes past him, straight for the black suits. “How did he know you had it?”
“He might have heard us—I didn’t think he was that close, but…” Rocco says, “I think that’s why he attacked. He needs it for something.”
***
There’s a miniature graveyard in front of me. I can’t believe how many creatures I’ve lost already. I stare at the tiny engraved tombstones, feeling sick to my stomach. This little graveyard will only grow, and I know it. I just don’t know what else to do, but—
A tiny flower starts to grow in front of one of the plaques. Soon, each of them has a flower in front of it, right before my very eyes. I look up, stunned, to find Sunny standing with his hands out towards them. “Is this okay?” he asks. His expression turns worried, as if he only just realized he might be intruding.
“It’s… great, thanks,” I say. “I mean, this is basically a graveyard for my invisible friends, so—”
“They weren’t invisible,” he says. “We saw a few of them, right? That makes them real.”
“Only for a little bit,” I say.
“Flowers are only for a little bit,” he says. “That doesn’t make them less beautiful. Losing something important to you, whether it’s a person, or a capability, or whatever, is hard. You shouldn’t feel guilty or sorry about mourning it, Lance.”
I nod as I get on my knees, lowering my chin to my chest, and letting out a slow breath. “I’ll just… leave you to it, okay?” Sunny says. I hear him walk away and the smell of spring fades away, only making me notice it now that it’s gone. He always smells like that. His mom smells like a warm summer day.
“God?” I say, focusing on what I need to do. “I miss my forms. I don’t know if it’s You that’s taking them, or if it’s just a genetic thing, or what, but Ken says You love me, so… if it’s possible, I want them back. I won’t use them for anything bad, I promise—I mean, sure I’ve spied on people once in a while, but nothing BAD! I mean, it was just funny—not like I was seeing something outrageous or, I don’t know, R-rated, or even really PG-13, or anything. Heck, most of the kids living here think of each other like siblings—well, anyway,” I say, changing the subject, “I want to, I don’t know, put my name in for the Coyote title. I know I’m not perfect, I don’t think anyone here is, but I promise I’ll do my best. But even if You don’t think I should be the Coyote… I guess… thank You for giving me the time that I had with those powers. They were awesome.” I pause, trying to remember the word you’re supposed to say. “Oh, right, Amen.”
I stand, feeling oddly relieved now that I’ve said all that. I mean, who better to put in a request with? Now I just need to focus on doing what I can do, which is finding Badmoon and getting him locked up like he should be. Once he’s out of the way I can focus on helping Mom get back to living like a human. And then I’ll… I don’t know, see if I still have a job with Century, even if I don’t have all of my forms anymore.
Now I just need to find Sandra and see if she’s still willing to help me. I take a step forward, only to stagger, falling to my knees and panting. My head is spinning and a rush of creatures pass through my mind so fast that I almost miss a few. It’s like they’re pouring out of me. I fall flat on my face, unable to keep my balance.
“Lance!” I hear someone shout. I try to push myself up in response, but I can’t tell which way is up anymore. I feel someone pick me up and I almost throw up as I get a massive case of vertigo. I’m losing my medium sized forms—all of them.
My coyote appears in my mind, turning away from me. It looks like he’s going to follow the others, and it panics me. “No,” I whisper, tears welling up. “No, don’t leave me, please—”
The coyote turns back to me and sits, his tongue lolling. After a long, thoughtful moment, he stands and walks up to me, licking me once before pressing his forehead to mine. I feel myself shift, and then I lose consciousness.
***
“Okay, spread out. Take the black suits nearest you,” Aubrey says as she, Bobby, and Alyssa teleport into the field. She looks at the watch she borrowed from Nico, wondering if she could talk him into making her one. She gets the feeling that she will need one in the future. Her eyes fall on the fallen black suits and she rushes to the one that looks in the most danger. She calls out a few more instructions, but they don’t need them. She turns her full focus on the man in front of her, touching his hand and letting her powers kick in. She can feel his heart slowing. She has to hurry.
There are claw marks across his chest, but they’re unlike an animal’s. They match the width of a very large man’s hand. They knit together under her power, and she turns her focus to the internal bleeding. Soon the heartbeat that had been so faint earlier is strong and healthy, once again. She lets go of his hand, standing and offering her own. He stares at her in wonder, and she gives him a little smile.
“I can get up,” he says. “You need to save my team—” he turns, looking at the others, only to stare in wonder at the other healers doing their thing. “Or… not.”
“How are we looking, guys?” Aubrey asks, turning to her team with a serious expression.
“I think my healing factor has gotten faster,” Alyssa says, looking a little pale for all of a second before her color comes back again. “That only stung for a little bit.”
“I—I think I touched this one for a second too long,” Bobby admits, looking at the woman he’d been healing. “Sorry, ma’am, but, um… is it okay if you’re twenty, again?”
“What are you talking about?” she demands, looking confused.
“You’ll probably have to get a new license picture, sorry,” he says, looking extremely guilty. “I’ve been trying to learn timing, but shelter animals age differently, so I’m not that good with humans—”
“Someone get her a mirror, would you?” Aubrey says. “Do we have any still in need of healing?” she asks, looking around. All of the black suits are sitting up, looking stunned.
“We were almost dead, there,” one of them say. “How do I feel better than I did before the werewolf attack?”
“Central Hall healers,” Century says from above. “Sugar, you have no idea how grateful I am for all of you coming so quickly,” he tells Aubrey as he lands. He offers his hand and she takes it, her eyes glowing for all of a second before she simply shakes her head with amusement.
“You still have pent up stress,” she points out.
“Well, I don’t, now,” he says with a little smile.
“Aubrey,” she hears Vinny save over the school com-link, “Lance just fainted. We think he had another episode. We’re bringing him to you—”
“Where are you taking him?” Aubrey asks. “Right now I’m in South Branch, but I can come back, now—unless there’s anyone else close to death?” She turns to Century, looking like she wants to run home now, but is honor-bound to inquire.
“No. Go help the boy,” he says.
“Thank you. Vinny, we’re heading home, now. Place him in my room, for now. Really… there’s nothing I can do for him, I don’t think, but I’ll try,” she admits. “Grab on, guys. We’re heading home.” She holds out a hand to the others and they grab on before she taps on the watch, leaving Century, Rocco, and a handful of black suits in tattered, bloody clothing.
