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LENGTH: Full Novel
SENSUALITY: Sensual

Cover art (c) Eliza Black 2002
ISBN 1-891020-19-6
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Who are the Moonrunners? Why have they been blessed--or cursed--with unusual powers that make others fear them? Will they ever be able to bring their strange talents under control? As they try to live and love as ordinary humans do, they search desperately for an answer to why they are born "different" and marked for death by the deadly Stalkers. This third book in the Moonrunner trilogy stands alone, though it continues the story of the Volek family--human, or are they? For Jael Steinmetz, newly hired to care for the strangest little girl she's ever met, the challenge is to stay alive. . . .

Rating: This paranormal fantasy is set in the past and ranges from the USA to Iron Curtain Russia. Though violence and sex are present, so is love.

"Five Stars! This is one novel you won't forget and one family you'll want to remember as they struggled to overcome the stalkers and their differences within. Ms. Toombs has created unforgettable characters that could only belong to the paranormal world. This reviewer recommends picking this novel up and while you're there, be sure to pick up the first two books of the Moonrunner trilogy." SimeGen Reviews

Moonrunner III:

DARK SUNRISE

By

Jane Toombs

© copyright by Jane Toombs, Oct 1997
cover art by Eliza Black
ISBN 1-891020-19-6

Chapter 1

The November tule fog that had shrouded California's great central valley for most of their trip lifted as the silver-gray Packard wound down a hill, allowing Jael Steinmetz to get her first look at Volek House. She stared awestruck at the great stone fortress, its multiple turrets bathed by the setting sun, the tall tower afire in crimson light.

Red as blood, she thought apprehensively, wondering again why she'd agreed to come.

Wolf Volek, sitting beside her, spoke for the first time in almost an hour, startling her.

"It was back in 1875 when I first saw my home-to-be," he said, gesturing toward the mansion. "I was ten at the time and thought it was a palace. Since I knew I didn't belong in one, if I'd had anywhere else to go I might have turned tail and run."

Does he know I have no place at all where I belong? Jael wondered even as she marveled at how open this scarred and taciturn man could be when he did break his silence.

She was twenty-seven, not ten, much too old to give way to foolish fancies. She'd seen many a San Francisco mansion tucked away behind protective walls, hadn't she? The Voleks were wealthy and those with money protected their privacy. If they chose to live in a stone castle girded with high stone and adobe walls broken only by massive iron gates, that was their privilege.

Judged by his appearance, Wolf Volek's life hadn't been easy. The left side of his face was badly scarred with a black eyepatch covering what she suspected was a missing left eye. Perhaps he had reason to live in a fortress.

"I hope you'll stay," he told her. "Marti needs you."

He'd said something similar when they'd met for the first time. "I've searched for months, for years. Believe me, you're the one for Marti." She hadn't completely understood then and she didn't now. It seemed, from the little he'd told her, that the child really did need a nursemaid but there were others just as suitable as Jael Steinmetz. She was far from accustomed to being the chosen one--for anything.

His scarred face made judging Wolf Volek's age difficult--somewhere in his early fifties, she'd tentatively decided. But if he was ten in 1875 that meant he was sixty- one now, in 1926. Definitely old enough to be the grandfather of the five-year-old girl who was to be her charge.

"You won't have any other duties," he said, repeating what he'd told her before. "Everyone at the house understands that Marti will be, must be your one and only concern. As I explained, she's unable to talk but she's very bright and understands everything said to her. That doesn't mean she always obeys. Marti will need careful watching."

In other words, a difficult child, one she wasn't to let out of her sight. Rather different than caring for the sick children at St. Tabitha's Hospital where she'd worked as a nurse. Would she like the change? How could she know until she tried it?

The car turned into a drive and Jael looked at the iron gate looming in front of her with displeasure. She didn't take to the idea of being locked in, as she would be when that gate clanged shut behind her. But why should she expect to feel at home in Volek House when she'd never felt at home anywhere in her life?

Wolf glanced sideways at Jael as he drove the Packard through the gates. He'd known the moment he set eyes on her that she was the "shining one" old Bear Claw's spirit-soul had described. Bear Claw had warned him that if he didn't find her and bring her to Volek House the entire clan would be doomed.

Though Wolf had good and sufficient reason to mistrust red-headed women, he placed Jael's mass of frizzy, carrot- colored hair in a different category, hers was more orange than red. Tall and awkward, her skin swarming with freckles, by no stretch of the imagination could she be called pretty. Her amber eyes held the wary watchfulness of a cat's, trusting no one, yet even in that stiff first meeting he'd caught glimpses of her essential warm-heartedness.

"Jael is a good worker," the Mother Superior had assured him later. "We'll hate to lose her."

"No flaws?" he'd asked.

The Mother Superior had remained silent for a moment. "She tends to prefer her own company. People sometimes take this to mean she's aloof. Stuck-up is the term I've heard used by some of our younger nurses, but that's hardly a flaw. All in all, she's a well-trained children's nurse and a sensible young woman. Our loss will be your gain."

Sensible. Aloof. Good traits for a girl who was coming to live with the Voleks and their deadly secret. Though the family had servants, they were all day workers. Jael would be the only live-in outsider now that Chung and Gei were gone. Wolf's mind winced away from the bloody memory of how they'd been killed.

He stopped the car in front of the house, slid from the seat and went around to open the door for her but she let herself out before he got there. Apparently she didn't wait for a man's assistance when it wasn't really needed. He liked her self-sufficiency.

"I'm afraid I don't remember many of the names of your relatives," she said, her gloved hands twining nervously together.

"There are too many of us anyway." He hadn't meant to speak so abruptly or so honestly. He forced a smile, hoping to pass the remark off as a mild joke. But there were too many with the tainted Volek blood, most of them living in Volek House and all of them his responsibility, exactly as his grandfather, over forty years ago, had warned him they would be.

Wolf was as much to blame as anyone else for the proliferation of Voleks.

His wife greeted him as he ushered Jael into the entry. "I thought you were never coming home," Cecelia cried, hugging him.

He smiled at her fondly as he introduced Jael.

"Thank God you're here," Cecelia told Jael. "Marti's been a real problem with Wolf gone. I can't tell you how glad I am he's found the right person to look after her."

As Jael greeted Wolf's wife, she felt someone watching her and turned. A silver-haired child with pale eyes and dark skin stood halfway down the staircase, staring at her.

Though Wolf hadn't described his granddaughter's appearance, Jael knew immediately who she was. "Hello, Marti," she said. "I'm Jael."

Something flicked across her mind, oddly reminding her of a waterbug skittering across a pond. Without stopping to reason what she was doing, she thought, Is that you I sense, Marti?

Instant surprise, then withdrawal. A moment later the child whirled, ran up the stairs and disappeared from view. Trying to conceal how shaken she was, both by the invasion and by her own too-hasty reaction, Jael turned back to Wolf and his wife and found them looking at her with concern.

Why? Had she inadvertently given herself away?

"Now that you've met Marti," Cecelia said slowly and carefully, "what do you think of her?" Worry darkened Cecelia's green eyes.

She's afraid I won't stay, Jael realized. That must mean she knows about Marti. But does she know about me? Have either of them guessed?

"You felt it, didn't you?" Wolf asked her.

Since there was no reason not to admit she had, Jael nodded.

"I didn't mention this--intrusiveness--of Marti's because I thought a non-family member might not be affected," Wolf said. "I hope you're not too upset."

"I am, a little," Jael confessed. Honesty was always best. Up to a point.

"You're taking this marvelously well," Cecelia said. "I do hope you'll stay and try to understand Marti. In many ways she's a sweet little girl."

A sweet little girl who invaded your mind. Jael took a deep breath. Wolf couldn't possibly be aware of how well he'd chosen. Or could he? Because of all the children's nurses in San Francisco he might have picked, he'd found perhaps the only one who could understand Marti. As a desperate urge to flee Wolf House seeped through her, Jael eyed him warily. How much did he suspect?

"Marti's a very lonely child," Wolf said.

The words dropped into her heart like stones. When she was a child she'd had no one, not after Yuba died. The Sisters at the orphanage had taken good care of her but she'd really had nobody. She still had nobody. Marti had a mother, a father, grandmother, grandfather and many other relatives right here in the same house with her. And yet, as Jael well knew, in truth, Marti had no one either. She needed Jael.

"I'll stay." Jael heard her own words with dismay. She worried about Wolf's possible suspicion of her flaw, but what really frightened her was far more sinister. In opening herself to Marti would she also leave herself open once again to that horror from the past? But how could she turn her back on a child as lonely as she'd always been?

Cecelia showed Jael to her room, the most luxurious bedroom Jael had ever been in, and left her there. She immediately circled the room slowly, letting its feel soak into her. Though she appreciated fine furnishings, the ambience of the place where she was to sleep was more important than anything else. Some rooms were threatening, some terrifying; she couldn't bear them for an hour, much less a night.

This one, though, seemed innocuous. She was at the windows looking down at the grounds when someone tapped at the door.

At her invitation a young man of her age entered, carrying her two suitcases into the room. His resemblance to Wolf convinced her he wasn't a servant and his drawn, rather haunted look held her gaze. She blinked when his dark, slightly slanted eyes met hers, only then realizing she was staring.

"I'm Leo," he told her. "Wolf's grandson."

"You must be Marti's brother." Jael was annoyed at the high-pitched tone of her voice because it revealed the nervousness she'd rather keep hidden.

"Her half-brother, actually. Relationships among the Voleks can get rather complicated." Leo spoke without inflection, almost, it seemed, without interest.

Why should he be interested in the nursemaid hired to watch over Marti? Especially now that he'd seen her. Jael had no illusions about her looks; men had never found her attractive.

"Someday you'll be beautiful," Yuba had always assured the homely little girl Jael had been. "When you grow up I'll have to sweep the boys off our doorstep with a broom."

Another of Yuba's golden dreams, Jael thought. None of them ever came true. The homely little girl had, predictably, grown into an unattractive woman. And there'd never been a doorstep of their very own.

Leo started for the door, paused and glanced toward her. "If there's anything you need, I'm usually--no, make that always--around somewhere." He didn't wait for her answer.

Jael mulled over the words. Why had he said them? Politeness? Probably. Yet she'd swear she heard an undertone of something other than mere courtesy in his voice. And why was he, a young man no older than she, "always" around?

She was unpacking when another knock came. This time it was a woman.

"I'm Druse Waisenen, Marti's mother," the woman said.

Looking at the dark-haired, brown-skinned woman, Jael saw where the child's dark complexion came from. "I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs. Waisenen."

"Wolf tells me you've already met Marti and so you know about--" Druse hesitated. "About her difference. I wanted to be sure you understand how very necessary it is to keep her with you. I realize there'll be times you'll need to be alone, just be certain to notify me or one of the other family members first." Druse bit her lip. "You see, last year Marti disappeared and we didn't find her for two days."

"I'll do my best," Jael said.

Druse sighed. "I hope she takes to you. It'll be such a relief to me, to all of us to have an outsider--" Druse bit her lip again. "What I mean is, Marti needs someone who doesn't belong to the family. She's with Samara now, I'll go and fetch her."

As she quickly finished her unpacking, Jael tried but failed to remember how Samara Volek was related to the others she met. Though Wolf had explained, there were too many members of the family for her to be clear about relationships. She wouldn't worry about it, if she stayed long enough eventually she'd have everyone in the house straight in her mind.

Not Druse, but a white-haired man appeared next at the door. His skin was so colorless, his eyes so pale, that he resembled an albino. When he pushed Marti into the room ahead of him, Jael nodded to herself. So this was where the rest of Marti's coloring came from--her father.

"How do you do, Mr. Waisenen?" she said and smiled at Marti. The little girl refused to meet her gaze, staring instead at her own shiny black patent-leather shoes.

His gray eyes studied Jael for so long she grew fidgety. "Wolf was right," he said at last, more to himself than to her. He knelt on one knee and turned Marti so she faced him. "She's here for you. Do you understand?"

Jael knew Marti couldn't speak but she expected to see a nod or a gesture, some indication the girl had heard her father. Marti merely stared at him, her face blank.

He shrugged and rose. "Jael is your name, I believe. I trust you'll prove as hardy as your Biblical namesake. I also hope that you, being a city girl, won't be alarmed by our country noises. We're close to the Sierra foothills and their varied animal life--on occasion you may even hear a coyote sing to the moon."

Jael smiled, charmed by the picture his words evoked in her mind--a lone coyote atop a hill, muzzle raised to the moon, not howling but singing. "I look forward to hearing him," she said.

Mr. Waisenen seemed startled. "Him?"

"The coyote."

"Oh yes, of course. Well, I'll leave you two to get acquainted."

As soon as the door closed behind Marti's father, Jael felt a feather-light mind-touch. She said nothing, hoping to encourage the girl to trust her, concentrating instead on her mind picture of the singing coyote. There was no use to try to conceal her unwished-for ability from this child who already knew she had it.

Not a coyote. Marti's thought imprinted itself on her mind.

Unsure what she meant, Jael decided to let it go for the moment and try to reassure the child while at the same time let Marti know this would be a two-way communication. I want to be your friend, she thought.

Marti flinched, taking a step backward.

Don’t be afraid, Jael thought hastily. I won’t hurt you.

I never had a friend, Marti thought after a long pause.

You have one now.

Are there others?

It took Jael a few moments to decide that Marti was asking if there were others who could speak mind to mind. You’re the first I’ve met, she admitted.

You can talk out loud, Marti thought. I can’t.

Jael chose her answer with care. No two people are the same. But I’m glad I found you. I felt so alone.

Marti took a step toward her. I’m always alone. Except for Quincy.

Who’s Quincy?

A pause. I’m not supposed to tell you.

Quincy. Jael was positive Wolf hadn't mentioned that name when reciting his family tree litany. Was Quincy a real person or an imaginary figure invented by a lonely child? Jael had concocted one of those invisible friends when she was little. Nonnie, she'd called him. Jael decided she'd best tread carefully here. She also needed to get a strong message across to Marti while they were alone.

When others are with us, I’ll talk out loud to you, she thought. We’ll keep this secret.

Marti smiled. I like secrets. I’ve got lots of them. She cocked her head, studying Jael. Maybe sometime I’ll tell you my secrets.

That’s up to you.

I know. Lots of things are up to me ‘cause I’m different. But I guess you are, too. I like your hair. May I touch it?

Secretly pleased that Marti had found something about her to like, Jael thought, If you want to. She sat on the bed.

Marti edged closer and reached a tentative hand to one of Jael's frizzy curls, then wound it around her finger. Finally she climbed onto the bed beside Jael. Tempted to put an arm around her as she would with any other child, Jael resisted the impulse. With Marti, it was best to let the child decide.

To her surprised gratification, Marti leaned against her. When they said you were coming I meant to hate you. But I don’t. She slid off the bed, lifted the crocheted spread, crouched and peeked underneath. There’s a trundle bed here so I can sleep in your room if I want. Maybe I will.

I’d like that.Jael made the thought as positive as she could, pushing away her doubts for the time being.

Do you have dreams?

Jael tensed. Those she remembered were not dreams but nightmares.

Marti's eyes widened and she laid a hand on Jael's knee. I didn’t mean to scare you.

Realizing the child had sensed the way she felt, Jael hurriedly pulled her thoughts together. Best to tell the truth, she reminded herself. As much as possible. I used to have bad dreams, she admitted.

If you do I’ll wake you up, Marti promised.

Jael impulsively hugged her and Marti snuggled into the embrace for a brief moment before drawing away I’m glad I came to Volek House, Jael thought.

Marti's smile faded. There’s things you won’t like. She clutched Jael's hand. I promise Quincy won’t hurt you. Please don’t go away and leave me.

Though Jael had no idea what Marti meant, she did her best to smile reassuringly. She and Marti had formed a bond she'd never before found with another person. For all she knew there were no others like the two of them. Despite possible danger from the past, the wonder of using mind-talk wasn't something she'd willingly give up. She needed Marti almost as much as Marti needed her. She had no intention of leaving Volek House.

I won’t leave you. The thought was absolutely sincere.

That night Jael woke abruptly from a troubled sleep and sat up, certain she'd heard an alien sound. Confused for a moment by her surroundings, she oriented herself and glanced immediately toward the trundle bed where Marti slept undisturbed. Since she hadn't drawn the shades in her room, moonlight flooded through the windows and, by craning her neck, she caught a glimpse of the full moon riding high.

There was no one in the bedroom but the two of them; the door remained closed. What had she heard? She eased down onto her pillow and lay quietly, listening. Perhaps the sound had come from an ordinary dream, the kind she never remembered.

She'd closed her eyes and was beginning to sink back into sleep when an eerie high-pitched ululation jolted her fully awake. She clutched the bedclothes, tears coming to her eyes as the howling filled the room with loneliness and despair.

Coyotes singing, Marti's father had said. But this was no song, it was a pain-filled cry for help. Still, she'd never heard a coyote before, perhaps they sounded like this. Blinking back her tears, she glanced again at the trundle bed where Marti now shifted uneasily in her sleep.

Not a coyote, Marti had insisted when Jael had shown her the mind picture of one singing to the moon. What had she meant?

And why can I hear the cry so clearly? Jael wondered. Is the animal on the grounds of Volek House?

Suddenly she felt Marti in her mind. The moon’s full. He can’t help howling.

Marti's face was turned toward her, Jael saw, the girl's eyes wide open.

He? Jael asked silently. The beast.

Beast. A coyote, of course. What had she expected? Jael decided she was foolish to get worked up over an animal's song to the moon, no matter how plaintive. Marti obviously wasn't the least frightened; she must have heard coyotes howl many a time.

I can sleep in your bed with you if you’re scared, Marti offered.

Thank you but I’m all right now. It’s just that I never heard a sound like that before.

Marti didn't tell her anything else and Jael saw the child's eyes close so she resettled herself on her pillow, determined to at least try to rest. She'd calmed herself enough to shut her eyes when a sleepy thought from Marti skittered disturbingly across her mind.

He can’t hurt you ‘cause he can’t get out.

Chapter 2

By morning fog shrouded the valley once again, a fog that didn't lift for three days. The howling at night wasn't repeated and, in the confusion of meeting so many people as she settled into the routine of Volek House, Jael had little time to worry about what she'd heard the night of the full moon. Especially after she discovered she was expected to attend a family wedding in Los Angeles with Marti the following week.

"I'm afraid I didn't bring appropriate clothes," Jael told Cecelia, concealing the fact she didn't even own the type of expensive dress she'd be expected to wear to a Volek wedding.

Cecelia eyed her assessingly. "You're taller but you and I have much the same build. If it wouldn't offend you to accept it, I have a long gown that I'm sure Delores could alter to the right length for day wear. The dress is pale green, which would complement your coloring."

Jael stared at her for a moment. The same build! Wolf's beautiful wife was slender and graceful where she was skinny and gawky. Belatedly recalling her manners, Jael managed to say, "That's very kind of you."

"I recall a time when I was a young girl and the Voleks befriended me when I had no one and nothing and I remember how ungrateful I was at the time." Cecelia's gaze grew unfocused, as though she was looking into the past. "Life teaches hard lessons. Frightful lessons. I've learned them at a cost." She blinked and refocused on Jael. "The least I can do for you is try to make you feel at home here. We really do want you at the wedding."

Delores, one of the day servants, used her skill on the charming silk gown Cecelia produced, a dress whose tunic top had a stylish dropped waist. When Delores was finished, the accordion pleated skirt came to just below Jael's knees, shorter than she wore her uniforms, shorter than she was accustomed to but certainly in style. Many women wore skirts coming barely to the knee.

Fortunately Jael had an almost new pair of beige shoes and a beige cloche to wear with the gown. Before Cecelia gave her final approval, she insisted on presenting Jael with a new tube of pale orange lipstick.

"I've never worn makeup," Jael protested.

Cecelia shrugged. "It's the fashion, so why not?" Taking the tube from Jael and opening it, she applied the orange color to Jael's lips. "There. See for yourself."

Jael stared into the mirror and had to admit that while she hadn't been transformed into a beauty by a becoming gown and a bit of lipstick, she did look more like everyone else. Enough like them, at least, so she wouldn't be noticed at the wedding. She dreaded the thought of attracting attention. Life, she'd found, was safer when you remained in the background.

The idea of Jael Steinmetz going to any fashionable wedding was startling enough, but it boggled her mind when she discovered that the bride wasn't merely a Volek but also a movie star.

Jael had never dreamed that the dark and sultry Melda Vance she'd seen on the movie screen a number of times was actually a member of the family and that her real name was Melanie Volek. The groom was also famous in his way. David Eastman was a successful and well-known lawyer, a descendent of a prominent Los Angeles family, and it was rumored he'd be on the ballot for governor of California in the next election.

The night before they were to leave for Los Angeles, Marti crawled into bed with Jael. I don’t want to go to the wedding, she thought.

Why not? Jael wondered.

‘Cause if they get married something bad will happen afterwards.

A dark foreboding settled over Jael. Could Marti foresee as well as mind-talk? She'd learned by now that the little girl could sense emotions in anyone's mind, though she couldn't decipher thoughts if the mind she entered didn't project them. What else could she do? Jael tried to keep her projected thought calm. How do you know?

I heard Ivan and Samara talking.

Samara, Jael knew, was Melanie's mother. Not by Ivan, who she'd married after the World War, but by another man, now dead. Ivan was one of a set of twins, sons of Sergei and Liisi, the two founders of the Volek clan and the builders of Volek House. Ivan and Samara had a daughter, Beth, a year older than Marti.

Samara said Melanie didn’t want any children so it was all right for her to get married, Marti reported. Ivan said he was sure Eastman would expect Melanie to have children. Then he kind of yelled about things being shaky enough without adding more Voleks and, worse, any child of Melanie’s might turn on the entire family.

Jael had no doubt Marti was reporting exactly what she'd overheard, confusing as it was. Do you know what Ivan meant? she asked.

Sort of. A long time ago I head Arno and Ivan talking about how Melanie’s father was one of the others, the bad kind, and how Melanie didn’t know.

Except for understanding that the twins, Arno and Ivan, shared knowledge that Melanie didn't, Jael had no idea what to make of this. Obviously not everyone in the family was happy about Melanie's marriage but that wasn't uncommon in families. What ‘others’? she thought.

Marti shook her head which usually meant she didn't know.

It doesn’t sound as though anything bad will happen at the wedding. Or afterwards, either. Jael tried to make her thought reassuring. If Melanie doesn’t want children she might well not have any.

Marti cuddled next to her in the bed. I hope not. ‘Cause they might be like poor Quincy.

Jael had discovered it was useless to question Marti about Quincy. Though she often mentioned him, she always refused to add any details.

When they arrived in Los Angeles, they found that Santa Ana weather had swept in off the desert to hold the city in its uncomfortably hot and dry embrace. Not a cloud marred the bright blue of the sky and the sun beat down relentlessly. Fans stirred the air inside the church but did little to dissipate the heat.

Sitting with Marti in one of the pews reserved for the bride's family, Jael dabbed perspiration from her forehead as she watched Ivan lead his stepdaughter up the aisle to the altar where a handsome blond man, graying at the temples, waited. David Eastman, Jael had discovered, was a widower with a grown son from his first marriage.

In her white lace wedding gown, Melanie was even more beautiful than she'd looked on the screen. But under her veil the bride wasn't smiling. Nervous, perhaps, because surely she was happy.

She’s scared, Marti thought, I can feel it. She leaned her head against Jael. I feel everyone at once. It hurts.

Concerned, Jael glanced down at Marti who was even paler than usual. Everyone one at once?

Lots of people. All the people. Too many.

The church was crowded, with every seat taken. And throngs of the uninvited waited outside to catch a glimpse of Melda Vance.

Jael put an arm around Marti. I’m here.

Marti shuddered and clutched at her. I can feel them all around me. They make me hurt inside my head. Sort of like a balloon you keep blowing up bigger and bigger and bigger till it goes pop.

The poor child had never learned to shut herself off from others. Alarmed at the desperation she sensed building inside Marti, Jael made a decision. Leaning forward, she whispered to Wolf, seated ahead of them, "Marti doesn't feel well. I'm afraid she needs to go home."

He turned, took one look at Marti and said, "Tell our chauffeur I said to take the two of you back to Volek House."

Marti lay on the back seat of the Rolls, her head hidden in Jael's lap, tremors shaking her at times, until the car began the long, lonely climb up the Tehachapi Mountains. Then she relaxed, turned over and fell asleep. Jael breathed a sigh of relief.

In Bakersfield, the chauffeur, Delores' husband, Carlos, stopped for gas and Marti woke up. To Jael's anxious questioning, she thought, I feel all right now ‘cause there’s hardly any people around.

Reassured, Jael helped her from the car so they could stretch their legs. Hearing a mewing, they looked toward a nearby eucalyptus tree. A box under the tree bore a crudely printed sign.

"Free kittens," Jael read aloud.

Marti ran to the box and dropped to her knees beside it. Jael hurried to crouch beside her. Three black and white kittens slept curled together in one corner while a striped black on gray kitten did its futile best to crawl over the opposite side of the box.

He wants to get out, Marti thought. He needs to get out. She lifted him from the box and sat back on her heels with the kitten in her lap. When he climbed up her dress and licked her face, Jael thought she'd never seen a more beautific smile than Marti's.

He likes me! Marti's thought was exuberant. She stood up, carefully cuddling the kitten. I want to take him home.

Carlos was doubtful. "Delores, she say no gato in la casa."

Her limited Spanish allowed Jael to translate this as no cat in the house, "Marti can keep the kitten in the barn if she must," Jael suggested, reluctant to destroy the child's happiness.

Having spoken, Carlos shrugged off any further responsibility for the kitten and so Marti climbed into the car with it clinging to her and they started off again.

Kittens are like people, Marti thought after a while, they don’t like to be locked up either.

No one, man or beast, wants to be locked up, Jael agreed.

Marti shot her a swift sideways glance. A few moments went by before she thought, I guess you must sort of feel him. Like you did the first night. He hates the tower.

Jael did her best not to show her astonishment. The tower? Was Marti telling her there was someone locked inside the tower of Volek House? Going over everything Marti had told her since her arrival, plus the strange howling she'd heard that first night, Jael came to a conclusion. Choosing her words carefully, she thought, It must be Quincy.

Marti's confirmation was rapid. Poor Quincy. Leo and me, we try to keep him from howling but sometimes he can’t help it.

Remembering the desperate sadness in the cry she'd heard on the night of the full moon, Jael decided it was possible she might feel like howling, too, if she were locked in a tower. Quincy must be a Volek. She longed to ask Marti why the Voleks felt it necessary to keep one of the family so carefully sequestered and searched for the right way to put it but could find nothing better than a straight question.

Why is Quincy kept in the tower?

Marti, now busy wiggling her finger for the kitten to bat at, thought, I’m not supposed to tell.

Jael dropped the subject for the time being but she couldn't get her mind off Quincy languishing in the tower. Was he insane? If so, wouldn't he be better off in an asylum where they treated the afflicted? And what was she doing working for a family who'd imprison someone in this barbaric fashion? Could she stay on, knowing this?

At dark, they finally arrived at the gates and the clang when they shut behind the car made Jael cringe anew, thinking of the man in the tower. Who is Quincy? she asked.

He’s Leo’s twin brother, , Marti thought absently as she stroked the sleeping kitten with a gentle forefinger. I’m going to let Gato sleep on my pillow. And I’ll never, ever lock him up.

Jael sighed as she watched Marti. What would happen if she left Volek House? Marti would have no one to share her thoughts with. Perhaps she'd never trust anyone again if Jael broke the promise she'd made to stay. As for herself, away from here, she'd have no one either. Yet, if she stayed, what about the man in the tower?

She'd heard his agonizing, wordless plea to be released. Could she bear the knowledge of his suffering and do nothing to try to relieve his plight? Since she'd never been able to ignore a human or an animal in pain, she doubted her ability to remain silent if she stayed at Volek House. What she must do, as soon as the family returned, was to ask Wolf to explain to her why Quincy was in the tower and then make her decision.

Waino, who hadn't gone to the wedding, was waiting in the entry as Jael shepherded Marti through the front door. He was starting to close it when the kitten suddenly let out a terrified yowl. Marti screamed with pain as the little cat clawed its way free of her, leaped to the floor, dashed through the open crack of the door and vanished into the night.

As Marti sobbed, Jael pulled her handkerchief from her pocketbook to staunch the blood from the scratches on the girl's hands. Marti's thoughts tumbled chaotically into Jael's mind. Gato hurt me. He hates me. Gato hates me.

"No." Jael spoke aloud without thinking, used to soothing frightened children at the hospital with her voice. "The kitten doesn't hate you, Marti. Something frightened him so much that all he could think of was getting away." Looking over the girl's head, she saw Waino watching her speculatively and realized she'd given herself away.

"Cats don't like this place, Marti," Waino said. "The kitten won't willingly come into the house. I'll see that Roger finds him tomorrow and brings him to the barn. He'll be safe and happy there and you can visit him."

Marti stopped crying, fear replacing her anguish as she stared at her father. She shifted her gaze to Jael. Owl hunts at night. Please don’t let Owl catch Gato and eat him, she begged silently.

Did owls eat kittens? Jael wondered. But it made no difference whether she knew the answer or not, she must help Marti no matter what she might reveal in the process. Swallowing her apprehension as best she could, Jael faced Waino.

"Your daughter's afraid an owl will catch the kitten before morning," she said, amazed that her voice didn't reveal her inner trembling. "If you'll watch Marti I'll be glad to search for Gato now."

For a long moment Waino didn't speak. Finally he shook his head. "I forgot about the owl. I want to make certain Carlos shut the gate after himself when he left so I'll hunt the cat while I'm out. You take Marti up to bed." He patted his daughter's shoulder. "Gato won't be afraid of me; I'll find him and see him safely into the barn."

Turning away, he reached into a small chest by the door and removed a flashlight. "Jael," he said, "please lock the door after me. I have a key."

She did as he asked, then put an arm around Marti and led her up the stairs. Marti bravely endured the washing of the cat scratches with soap and water but, as Jael was gently patting her hands dry with a towel, she was startled to see tears roll down the girl's cheeks.

I don’t mean to hurt-- she began.

It’s not you, Marti interrupted. Quincy’s crying. It hurts me inside when he cries. Quincy didn’t mean to upset me, it isn’t his fault about the kitten. He can’t help it. I should’ve known the kitten would be afraid of him..it’s my fault.

It made no sense to Jael that a kitten could be afraid of a man locked in a tower two stories above them, a man the cat could neither see, hear nor smell at that distance. At the same time she was taken aback to realize the child's outburst must mean she was communicating with Quincy.

I didn’t realize you and Quincy could mind talk, she said.

Just sort of. I have to guess lots of times, ‘specially when he… Marti broke off. Mostly he can’t unless something bad happens to me, like the kitten. She leaned against Jael. You’re the only one who understands all the time. I have to go up there now or he’ll keep on crying.

Into the tower? Jael's thought was incredulous.

Not in the room. That’s locked and can’t ever be opened. Just outside the door. So he can hear me better.

Can't ever be opened. The words made Jael wince. Who dared to damn this man to life imprisonment? And why? I’ll go with you, she thought firmly though it made her skin crawl to think of climbing into the tower.

Marti looked at her dubiously. You might upset Quincy.

I won’t. Jael's thought was more positive than her conviction. I’m sorry for him.

Marti brightened, pleased at her words. We better go quick before my father comes back ‘cause he won’t like it.

Jael hesitated, then shrugged. Waino already had cause to be suspicious of her so she might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb. Besides, Marti was determined to go and she couldn't let the girl climb to the tower alone. If she forbade her, Jael knew in her bones that Marti would try to sneak away and visit Quincy anyway.

Marti dashed into her bedroom closet and retrieved something from deep inside, showing a key to Jael as she emerged, a key that unlocked the access door to the tower stairs. Leaving the door unlocked, Marti raced up the winding spiral staircase so quickly that Jael, hurrying in her wake, worried for her safety. She was breathless by the time they reached the locked door at the top. A dim bulb gleamed from a lamp attached to the stone wall over the door.

To Jael's surprise, as Marti projected her thoughts toward Quincy, she also caught them. But it was such a jumbled confusion of pictures and words that she couldn't easily follow the gist. Opening her mind as much as she knew how, she made an effort to understand.

Her intense concentration on Marti and the man behind the locked door left Jael aware of nothing else. Startled when a tide of darkness swirled around her, at first she thought the light had gone off. By the time she realized the darkness had turned to crimson it was too late to try to close her mind.

Jael found herself enveloped in a reddish fog where she could see nothing and was able to hear in her mind only one voice, the same hateful voice that haunted her nightmares, a voice from the long dead past.

Blood of my blood, you will do my bidding.

No! she tried to cry, but neither her voice nor her thought pierced the evil fog.

The time is ripe for revenge and you are my tool.

As had happened too often in the past, horror overwhelmed her, numbing her resistance. The voice continued to nibble at her will until she could do nothing but obey its commands.

In his hurry to open the gate for your car, he left the key in the lock. Turn it. The numbers for the combination lock above the keyed lock are etched on the inner surface of the key.

Without her willing it, her hand reached out and, feeling a key under her fingers, Jael turned and removed it. In the fog that blinded her, a series of numbers glowed brightly, fitting themselves into her mind. Of its own volition her hand slid up to the circular dial of a combination lock she couldn't see, the dial becoming visible and illuminated the moment she touched it.

Carefully she turned the dial, matching its numbers with those in her mind until she heard a loud click. All the time she was vaguely aware of someone or something outside the numbing blackness trying to call to her but no thought or word could penetrate. All she could hear was the voice from beyond the grave.

Listen to me, blood of my blood, lest you perish. You must survive for until you reproduce you are the last of my line. You will leap aside the moment you open the door. The child will then protect you. Now. Open the door!

Jael flung the door open. As she quickly jumped aside something she couldn't see brushed past her, she felt a brief touch of coarse hair against her bare arm and smelled a feral stench that turned her stomach. Then a weight pushed against her, forcing her against a stone wall and the crimson fog dissipated.

Marti stood in front of her, arms outstretched. Jael's mind spun with the force of the child's command. Don’t hurt her. She freed you. You’re free! Run or they’ll catch you. Run!

Jael caught a glimpse of a vast nightmare figure, half- beast, half-man, at the top of the stairs. It snarled, a sound so menacing her knees sagged in terror until only Marti's weight pinning her against the wall kept her on her feet. Involuntarily she shut her eyes and when she opened them again the thing had disappeared. She heard claws scrabbling on the stone of the steps, a violent scratching at the door at the bottom and then a triumphant howl.

Minutes later there came a distant crash of glass shattering.

Jael? Marti's thought was tiny and tentative. Frightened.

It took Jael a moment or two to form even the simple words, I’m here.

Marti turned and clung to her, her small body quaking. You were gone. Something dark and scary was inside you.

Oh God, Marti had felt it. Would the darkness return? Would it harm Marti? Panic struck Jael, her wobbly knees gave way and she slid down the wall until she sprawled on the stone floor, Marti lying across her lap.

Waino was in the barn making a nest in the hay for the kitten when the howl froze him in place. As soon as he was able to move, he dropped the kitten into the hay, ran to the barn door and slammed the bar into place, locking himself inside. He yanked the rifle from its rack above the door. As he reached into an inner pocket for the special ammunition he always carried, he heard glass shatter. One of the house windows!

The light bulb hanging from a cord attached to a rafter cast a dim glow on the silver bullets as he grimly loaded the gun. Stripping his mind of all emotion except a hunter's determination, he yanked the chain connected to the light, shutting it off, then raised the bar and left the barn.

Once outside, he stood with his back to the closed door long enough for his vision to adjust to the darkness. His day vision was weak but at night he saw as well as or better than most humans. Still, the best he could hope for was enough warning to shoot at least one bullet before he was attacked and have that bullet score a hit. Even in a minor wound, the silver would poison the beast and, if not removed, kill him.

Treading with caution, Waino sidled away from the barn and, trying to peer in all directions at once, struck out for the house, expecting death at any moment. He was halfway to his goal when the beast's exultant cry stopped him in his tracks.

Beyond the wall! The beast had already escaped from the grounds. With his speed, he'd be beyond rifle range in a matter of minutes. Waino took a deep breath. He was safe for the moment, unlike the unfortunates outside the grounds.

He was safe, yes, but what had happened to his daughter? Terrified of what he might find, Waino ran toward the lights of the front entrance, noting the glitter of broken glass amidst the shrubbery as he pounded up to the door. Locked. He cursed the seconds it took him to find the key, insert it and fling open the door. Kicking it shut behind him, he ran up the stairs shouting Marti's name.

There was no answer.

Of course not, you fool, he told himself. Use your head, call the other one, the nursemaid what's-her-name. Biblical. The woman who'd pounded a spike through the enemy chieftain's head, nailing him to the ground. What was the damn name? Jael, that was it.

"Jael!" he shouted. "Jael!"

No answer.

He found no sign of them on the second floor. His steps lagged as at last he climbed the spiral staircase to the tower. At the moment he'd heard the first howl he'd realized he'd forgotten the tower key and feared what he'd find if he ever made it back to the house. He might have forgotten the key but he knew he'd locked both the locks. Quincy could never have escaped from the room unassisted.

He was almost to the head of the stairs when he saw them, Jael holding Marti, both slumped motionless on the stone floor. Lifeless.

"Marti!" The cry came from the depths of his soul. Until that second he hadn't realized how intensely he loved his child.

Before his unbelieving eyes, the two of them stirred. Marti sat up, stared at him, then staggered to her feet and stumbled toward him. He rushed to meet her, grabbing her into his arms and hugging her.

"I thought the beast had killed you," he whispered over and over.

"Marti saved me." Jael's voice was so ragged and hoarse he could scarcely decipher her words.

"Come," he said, shifting Marti to one arm and offering his free hand to Jael. "I'll help you to your room."

Marti insisted on cuddling next to Jael on her bed. Waino covered them with a quilt and then sat on the trundle bed looking from one to the other. Much as he disliked asking questions of a young woman who'd been frightened half to death, he had to have answers. Now.

Jael's yellow eyes met his, slid away, then returned. She folded a pillow under her head to prop herself up and then cleared her throat.

"It was my fault," she said tonelessly. "I unlocked the door."

"Why?"

"I--I heard him the first night I was here and he sounded so--so desperate..."

He waited for more but no more came. "How did you know the combination of the second lock?" he asked finally.

"I saw the numbers etched on the key."

Impossible. The numbers were so minute they could only be seen in good light with the aid of a magnifying glass. There was no way she could have deciphered them in the dim light of the tower. On the other hand, Marti might have learned those numbers at some time or other. She was a remarkably perceptive child who excelled at ferreting out secrets. Was Jael protecting her? He leaned forward.

"Marti," he ordered, "look at me."

His daughter turned her gaze from Jael to him, her pale eyes unreadable.

"Marti, did you tell Jael the combination?"

Slowly, reluctantly, it seemed, she shook her head.

"Are we safe?" Jael put in. "From—from him?"

She'd seen the beast. Waino decided there was no point in dissimilation. "He won't bother with us now that he's escaped the grounds. He has other prey to hunt."

Jael shuddered. "I didn't know what he was. I didn't realize--"

Waino wasn't surprised when her words faltered. How could she realize? How could anyone but a Volek realize what kind of thing had been locked in the tower? Still, Jael Steinmetz was proving to be a very odd young woman. She admitted she'd heard the beast howling to the full moon--a sound to freeze the marrow of the bravest man's bones. Yet, inexplicably, she'd let him loose. His mind marshalled everything he knew about her, making him remember the strangeness of her comments about the kitten. She'd spoken but the thoughts had been Marti's, he was sure of it.

He pointed an accusing finger at her. "You can do what Marti does. Read minds."

Jael cringed away from him. Marti wrapped her arms protectively around Jael and scowled at her father.

"I'll try not to ask hurting questions, Marti. But I must know the truth."

"I'll leave first thing in the morning," Jael faltered.

Marti's face crumpled and she began to weep silently.

Waino knew the Voleks didn't dare let this woman leave the house. Not with what she knew. Quincy was hunting somewhere in the dark and God knows how long it would take them to trap him again. Meanwhile, they couldn't turn Jael loose with her dangerous knowledge.

"No, no, Jael, please don't feel that way," he said. "We don't want you to leave--why it would break Marti's heart."

Jael looked at Marti and began to cry, hugging the child to her.

Waino concealed his impatience as best he could while he waited for them to calm down. Had he convinced her to stay or not?

At last Jael mopped her eyes and said brokenly, "Marti wants me to tell you something."

Again he had to wait while Jael blew her nose and cleared her throat. When she finally spoke he could only gape at her.

"Marti says he--the beast--isn't hunting, he's looking for his twin brother."

Waino took a moment to recover himself. He didn't doubt Marti could communicate with Quincy--but when he was in beast shape? "Whether that's true or not," he said, "it's a good idea to get Leo back here as soon as possible."

Jael blinked several times, then said, "Marti tells me it's too late. Quincy knows Leo is in Los Angeles and so does the--the beast. He's on his way south already."

Waino closed his eyes, envisioning the terrible consequences of the beast roaming free. He was a ruthless hunter and his prey was as likely to be human as animal, as he'd proven by his most recent kills.

Though it wasn't the first time the clan had faced such a calamity, the Voleks were an old and respected valley family and had been able to cover up and gloss over the other bloody tragedies because they'd happened locally.

On foot, the beast could travel much faster than a man. How far south had he gone already? They had to find him before he brought doom to Volek House. And not just find him.

Fixed and intent on what must be done, Waino forgot about the other two in the room. Without conscious thought, he reached for and gripped the rifle he'd left on the floor near the bed.

The time was past for locking him away. Quincy had to die.

Chapter 3

At the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles, Wolf woke to a pounding on his door. He leaped from the bed and rushed into the sitting room. "Who's there?" he demanded.

"Leo. Let me in. Hurry!"

Hearing the panic in Leo's voice, Wolf's heart rate, already rapid from the abrupt awakening, speeded even more.

Leo, barefoot and dressed only in his trousers, burst into the room, his face twisted with anguish. "He's escaped, Quince has escaped! I can feel him running free. He knows I'm here--odds are he's on his way to LA to find me."

"No!" Cecelia stood in the doorway to the bedroom in her nightgown. "My God, what are we to do?"

The phone rang. Wolf picked up the receiver, already anticipating who was calling. As soon as he heard Waino's voice, he said, "Leo's told me about Quincy. Is he right?"

"Yes. About an hour ago. Quincy's left the grounds but Marti says she can locate him for us."

Wolf's eyebrows raised. "Marti says?"

"Through this nursemaid you found for her. Through Jael. I can't explain over the phone. And Jael's seen Quincy." Waino's voice was grim. "In the morning the three of us will drive south in the truck. With the silver. And the means to use it."

About to question the wisdom of bringing either a child or an outsider on such a dangerous journey, Wolf hesitated before answering. Waino must already have weighed the consequences. "I'll stay here with Leo but I think it's best we have someone at Volek House at all times so I'll send Cecelia and our boys on the night train to Tulare. Have Carlos pick them up and then wait for them to arrive before you leave. Reynolds might prove of use if worse comes to worst."

How much use his son Reynolds might be was moot, Wolf thought, but at least the boy shared Quincy's dark trait, though controlled, as Quincy's was not.

"I agree to your plan." Waino sighed. "Let's pray this doesn't attract one of the--others."

As he hung up, Wolf tried to force the thought of stalkers from his mind. Despite the murderous clashes with those malevolent others over the years, the Voleks had learned practically nothing about them. There was no way to protect themselves or Quincy if a stalker should sense him and so there was no point wasting time worrying about it.

"Quince shifted," Leo said, clenching and unclenching his fists, "so everything's blurred between us. If I could only figure out a way to make him shift back..." His words trailed off and he slammed a fist against the door frame. "Damn!"

Wolf flung an arm over his shoulders. "We'll save him if we can, you know that."

Leo stared at him, the muscles in his jaw working. "I know you can't."

Wolf gave Leo's shoulders a squeeze and released him, relieved that Leo realized the odds were stacked solidly against keeping Quincy alive. Seeing that Cecelia had gone into the bedroom to pack, he lowered his voice. "We must stop him before the blood lust lures him into killing everything in his path. If he's caught--or killed--by anyone else, we've no way to keep his identity a secret."

Leo nodded. "I know. Old Sergei's safety of the clan and all that."

Something in Leo's tone bothered Wolf, turning his relief to unease. "The clan has to come first, Leo. Otherwise we'd have perished long ago."

"He's half of me." Tears shone in Leo's eyes. "You might just as well kill me along with him."

"That may happen."

Leo blinked, obviously taken aback.

"Don't forget you'll be the goat we stake out to attract the beast," Wolf went on. "We know that even in beast form Quincy won't harm you--but what if a stalker's on the trail of the beast?"

Straightening his shoulders, Leo looked Wolf in the eye. "I'm damned if it'll be a stalker who kills me. Or kills Quince either. Where's the stake-out going to be?"

"Waino's driving south in the morning with Jael and Marti. If he doesn't catch up with Quincy, then we'll have to choose an isolated place near LA, a wooded spot the beast would naturally seek."

"I just may have found it," Leo said slowly. "You know how I hate cities, so after we checked in last night I asked the doorman if there were any large, fairly wild parks in LA and he told me how to get to one. I got up early and hiked through Elysian Park. It's a few miles from the hotel to the northeast--woods, with an uninhabited canyon running into the park from the north. What do you think?"

"Sounds possible. I'll take a look."

"Why in hell is Waino bringing Marti?" Leo asked. "And this outsider?"

"Jael saw the beast so we can't very well turn her loose to spread the news. And Marti claims she can track Quincy. Waino was at the house when Quincy escaped so he knows how and why it happened and has made up his mind how best to handle the problem. Until I have all the facts, I won't question his decisions."

"I admit Marti's been able to control Quince at times but it's not fair to put such a young child into--"

Wolf slashed a hand through the air, cutting Leo off. "We need all the help we can get. Young or not, Marti's a Volek like the rest of us. If the family doesn't survive, she won't. I thought you understood."

Leo glared at him. "Back to the damn safety of the clan. You're willing to sacrifice your own five-year-old granddaughter on the off-chance you can catch Quince before someone else does. If you don't kill him, what do you intend? To lock him in the tower for the rest of his days? And what about that poor nursemaid--are you going to turn Volek house into a prison so she can never get away from us?"

Wolf tamped down his anger, reminding himself how close the twins had always been. He kept his voice level. "Jael's a problem we'll settle later. After we find Quincy. I know you love him and fear for him. I've never forgotten that time in the Miwok village when we took shelter with Bear Claw and Quincy got sick. Do you remember?"

After a moment Leo nodded reluctantly.

"We've never discussed it," Wolf said, "but did you know why Bear Claw asked you to lie down next to your brother?"

Leo nodded. "When we were kids Hawk told me how the Miwoks believe twins share one spirit. Hawk knew a lot of Miwok lore. He said his mother named him Soaring Hawk because she sensed at his birth that he'd choose the sky."

Taken unaware by the mention of Hawk, Wolf pressed a hand to his chest as if to ease the swift stab of grief. No one, nothing, had ever replaced Hawk, his firstborn son, lost in the Bering Sea when he attempted to fly his biplane into Russia.

The past couldn't be changed. Wolf forced his attention back to Leo.

"Lying there by the fire in the Miwok lodge," Leo was saying, "listening to old Bear Claw's medicine chant, I figured if he believed Quince and I had but one spirit between us, he must be trying to take my health and pass it along to Quince. I was afraid Quince was going to die--" Leo paused and took a deep breath. "I didn't care what happened to me, I just wanted him to get well."

"As he did. After he bit you in the throes of delirium."

"Yeah, I remember getting bit." Leo stared at the scar on his left arm. "How could I forget? Didn't it make me a shifter, too? I hated the changing. God knows I was glad when you and Waino banished the beast part of me." He fingered the amulet suspended from his neck by a leather thong. "I've never wanted to be anything but human. Quince, though--"

"Has never wanted to be anything but a beast," Wolf finished.

"Maybe old Bear Claw was right and we do share only one spirit, me the human half and Quince the beast half."

Wolf stared at him for a long moment, the hair rising on his nape. Was it possible? Maybe yes, maybe no. His shaman journeys had taught him not to label anything impossible.

Not that it was the same as two sharing one spirit, but in his life he'd encountered at least one instance of spirit possession. He shuddered, cutting short the memory. Dangerous to dwell even briefly on that time for fear he'd evoke the hell-spirit once again.

A moment later, dark mist swirling about him, he feared he had. The hotel room vanished and a woman's form took shape in the mist, a pale figure whose silver gaze pierced his mind, transfixing his attention and his will. His last vestige of emotion was a trickle of relief. She was not the evil one, she was Grandmother Liisi.

"Beth," Liisi whispered in his mind. "Tell Waino he must teach Beth how to journey."

And then she was gone.

Wolf found himself on the floor with Leo on one knee beside him.

"Grandpa, what happened?" Leo's voice quavered.

Wolf struggled to sit up, Leo helping him. "Knocked flat by a vision, that's all." Amusement and self-mockery laced Wolf's words. "Grandmother Liisi always was a determined woman."

Remembering what she'd told him, he sobered. On his feet once more, he took hold of Leo's shoulders. "Promise me you'll do as I ask," he said. As Leo hesitated, Wolf added, "This has nothing to do with your twin."

"Then I promise."

"Tell Waino that Liisi wants him to teach Beth how to make the shaman's journey, beginning as soon as possible."

"I'll do exactly as you say but--" Leo's brow furrowed-- "but, grandpa, why can't you tell him? And, come to think of it, if Beth's to follow the shaman path, why can't you teach her?"

Wolf stepped back. When he spoke it was to answer the second question. "The shaman's way is blocked to me; I can no longer travel that path, much less lead anyone along it." He gestured toward the door. "Get dressed and go make sure Reynolds and Nicholas are ready to catch the night train with their mother."

"How about the rest of the family?"

"Let them sleep. Morning's soon enough to break the news."

Not until Cecelia and his sons were gone and he was alone in the room did Wolf allow himself to dwell on the meaning of Grandmother Liisi's message. When he was certain he understood all she'd meant to convey, he locked himself into his private bath, the only room in a hotel where he could be sure he'd be alone. Turning out the light, he sat Indian fashion on the floor, resting his hands, palms up on his thighs and closed his eyes. After a time he began to chant:

"Spirit Wind, do not blow from the south

Do not blow me toward the north

Do not blow me to the dark, the cold

The place where heroes drown

The place where men are eaten

Blow me, spirit wind, to a land

Where Grandfather waits

A land where my son soars high

Where Hawk spirals down the sky forever...

Much later, he tried to phone Volek House but there was no answer.

In the early morning, Cecelia telephoned him from the house, saying that Carlos had picked her and the boys up in the Rolls at the Tulare station. When they arrived at Volek House Waino had been waiting in the truck, driving out through the gates as soon as Carlos drove in.

"The dining room window is broken," she said. "And the tower room open. "Otherwise everything's as usual in the house. Waino left us some--silver. Like you, he doesn't think we'll have any need to use it."

"I'm sure you won't," Wolf said, unsurprised that he wouldn't be able to talk to Waino. "Ivan and Arno have decided they ought to go home, too, so they're leaving the hotel with their families to catch the afternoon train. Expect them at Volek House by tonight. Bren's with them so you may have to look after him since Druse insists on staying here."

"I'll be glad to see Ivan and Arno," Cecelia admitted. "But I wish you were coming with them. You will be careful?"

"As careful as possible."

"Remember," she said, "you're not as young as you were in '06."

He knew what she meant. San Francisco. The earthquake and the fire. Golden Gate Park and the beast. "I love you, Cece," he said.

She caught her breath. "Oh, Wolf, I wasn't worth what you went through--the scars, losing your eye..." She began to weep and was still crying when she hung up.

He smiled. She'd been worth everything. She still was.

Leo, who'd been resting on the sitting room couch, sat up. "Quince is closer, I can feel it. A lot closer. And he's shifted to himself."

"You're sure?"

Leo nodded.

Wolf's relief that Quincy wasn't traveling in beast form ended all too soon. He'd been out shopping for a few necessary items and came back to the hotel near noon. He'd noticed earlier that one of the ground floor guest sitting rooms contained a large Atwater Kent radio and it was turned on loud enough to be audible in the lobby as he crossed to the elevators.

"There's bears in them there hills, folks," an announcer was saying. Wolf paused and drifted closer to listen.

"Experts tell us that these days there's not a grizzly to be seen in all of California," the man went on, "but, according to a rancher who lives not far from our beautiful new Rose Bowl in Pasadena, there's at least one real, live grizzly in the San Gabriel Mountains.

"In Mr. Thomas Denton's own words, 'I killed me a bear or so in my time and that critter I saw today weren't no ordinary bear, he must of been one of them grizzlies. Why, he tore up two of my steers something pitiful.' Near dawn this morning, Mr. Denton caught sight of the grizzly from his truck but prudently didn't pursue the animal, claiming he wasn't about to go after 'no beast that big and mean.' In other local news--"

Wolf turned away and hurried to the elevators. The experts, he suspected, were correct. Very likely there were no longer any grizzlies in California and certainly none in the southern part of the state. There might still be a black bear or two in the San Gabriel Mountains, but not grizzlies. Yet he feared the rancher had been telling the simple truth when he claimed he hadn't seen an ordinary black bear. Mr. Denton erred in calling the beast a grizzly, but Wolf had no doubt it was a beast. A Volek beast.

In Wolf's suite, Leo listened to the story and nodded. "Sounds like it might have been Quince. He's not in beast shape right now, though, and he's coming closer all the time."

Druse, sitting in a chair by the telephone, said, "To get from Volek House to the San Gabriel Mountains that fast Quincy must have gotten a ride for at least part of the way, obviously not as a beast."

"We can't take a chance on him coming to the hotel," Wolf said. "God knows what might happen if he did. He's trying to reach Leo so the two of us will have to go to Elysian Park now. Be sure you stay by the phone, Druse, so you can tell Waino where we are if he calls. Tell him not to take Jael or Marti into the park with him. Have Room Service bring you anything you need."

"Don't worry about me," she said, "worry about yourselves. I thought you meant to wait until Waino arrived with the silver mesh net."

And the guns with silver bullets, Wolf added silently, knowing Druse didn't want to think about her son being shot down and killed. "We can't wait," he said.

Druse bit her lip. "Leo, you take care of yourself. And papa--you, too."

"We're not entirely helpless." Moved by an impulse he only half understood, Wolf pulled Druse into his arms and hugged her before leaving. "You've always been my sweet little girl," he said.

She hugged him fiercely. "Sometimes not so sweet, papa. Or else--" She didn't finish.

Or else Leo and Quincy would never have been born. But in her teens Druse had been as bemused by lust and what she thought was love as Wolf had himself when he was young. And the pain he'd brought to the family was far worse than anything Druse had done. So how could he blame her?

Pressed for time, Wolf felt there was no time to search for the best place to encounter Quincy. Elysian Park would have to do. Leaving Druse in the suite, he and Leo climbed into a taxi.

The entrance to Elysian Park was to the left off Broadway, not long after they passed Sunset Boulevard and crossed the bridge over the Los Angeles River. Wolf and Leo left the taxi on the street and hiked up the steep slope that led into the park proper.

Tall eucalpytus trees lined the narrow, twisting road, with pines and other evergreens visible beyond their large gray trunks. Shrubs and bushes grew thickly where the trees thinned enough to allow sunlight through.

A cool breeze from the ocean promised relief from the heat of the Santa Ana but also carried the threat of evening fog. Wolf hoped it would be no more than a threat. While southern coastal fogs were nowhere as thick as tule fogs, he preferred clear weather for tonight.

By the time the November sun was low in the west, they'd penetrated deep into the park and had concealed themselves as best they could in the densest of the wooded areas. Assured by Leo that Quincy was still some ways off, Wolf settled onto a stump to go over the map of the city and the surrounding area yet one more time.

"According to the map," he said, tracing a route with his finger, "this is an arroyo running from the San Gabriel Mountains that feeds into the Los Angeles River. Arroyo Seco, they call it, so I suppose the waterway is usually dry, like the LA River. I imagine the arroyo is fairly wild with lots of growth, making a natural pathway for animals. Look how close it comes to the park boundaries."

"He hasn't shifted into a beast again," Leo said.

"Even if he does, with luck and under cover of darkness, he'd be able to get here unobserved."

Leo, who'd been methodically leafing through the afternoon Examiner, drew in his breath. "Damn it, they did pick up the grizzly story," he said. "And they've got more." He shoved the newspaper at Wolf.

In the fading light, Wolf read the column. Some enterprising Examiner reporter had coupled the Denton grizzly encounter with the death of a man found mangled and naked just off Route 99 in the Tehachapi Mountains. "Mauled By Grizzly?" the small headline asked. Though it wasn't front page news, unfortunately the headline was sensational enough to draw attention.

"It must have been Quince." Leo's voice was morose.

"No doubt of it. He shifted back after the kill, put on the man's clothes and hitched a ride with someone. No wonder he arrived here so fast." Wolf frowned. "That almost sounds as though Quincy's beast can act on orders from his human part and that the human side of him knows the beast's intentions. Sergei told me that wasn't possible. He said the beast might be aware of many things the human part of him knew but that, as far as he could plan, it was the planning of a beast. And once human, he never knew or remembered what he'd done while a beast."

"Quince is himself, not Grandfather Sergei. So why should his beast behave exactly as Sergei's did? Besides, don't you think it's possible being locked up for so long might have altered Quince? I can tell you he isn't the same person he was when you shut him into the tower."

"We," Wolf reminded him. "It was a family decision."

"No one asked Quince." Leo's voice rose. "He hated it!"

"He can't control himself and we can't control him. The alternative to imprisonment was--and is--death."

"He doesn't want to die."

Wolf shrugged. "Who does? But death waits for all of us, sooner or later. Sometimes it's the best solution."

"No!"

Apprehension thrust Wolf to his feet. "Leo, you said you understood."

Leo's hand gripped the hilt of the silver dagger sheathed on his belt. Wolf, wearing a similar knife, eyed him askance.

"I don't have to like it," Leo said sullenly, taking his hand away.

"No, but you have to face it."

Leo stared into the gathering shadows between the trees and neither man spoke for a time. After a while, Leo said, "Doesn't elysian mean a sort of paradise?"

"To the ancients, Elysium was the dwelling place of happy souls after death," Wolf told him. "The Elysian Fields."

Leo turned to look at Wolf. "My brother would be as much out of place in Elysium as he is in this world. He doesn't belong--" He stopped abruptly, swinging around so he faced east. "Quince has shifted again. Into a beast. And he's close."

Deep within himself, Wolf had known all along Quincy would have to be confronted as a beast. He recalled the bloody night when Leo and Quincy's father was killed, a night of violence and death in another woods, and he closed his eyes as though that would blind him to the memory. He and Samara were the only ones who'd survived that night and for months after she'd been more dead than alive. But she'd lived and so had Melanie, the unwanted child of rape.

Wolf closed his hand around the hilt of the silver knife and eased over to the trunk of a pepper tree, taking comfort in the feel of something solid against his back. Quincy wouldn't harm his twin but everyone else was fair game for the beast.

"What was my father like?" Leo's voice coming out of the darkness startled Wolf.

"Uncontrolled, like your brother." Leo didn't need to know Stefan had been so uncontrolled that he'd killed his own mother. Only his twin, Samara, had been safe from his blood lust.

"Why is it some shifters can control their changing, like Grandfather Sergei could and Arno and Reynolds and I can?"

And Cecelia, Wolf added silently. "The family has tried damn hard to figure it out," he said, "but so far we've failed. Just as we've failed to find a reason why some of us are shapeshifters and some not. There must be an answer. Sergei always believed the secret of the Voleks lay in Russia, where we came from." He shifted his grip on the knife handle. "How close is Quincy now? Can you tell?"

"I'm trying but it's garbled, like getting two radio stations at once."

Wolf tensed, fearing Leo might somehow be picking up a stalker. None of them had any idea how stalkers homed in on shifters. "Could you be getting two different signals?" he asked.

Leo didn't answer for so long that Wolf had started to repeat the question when Leo broke in.

"Marti!" he exclaimed. "That's the trouble. Marti's found Quincy."

Damn. Marti's presence might complicate matters. "Found him in what way?" Wolf asked. "Mind touch or--?"

"Can't tell. But she knows where he is."

Wolf cursed again. He'd feared it was a stalker Leo sensed but Marti was bad enough. If she followed close on Quincy's trail she'd add more danger to the already perilous situation.

In the pale moonlight, Marti ran after the loping beast, ignoring Jael's frantic mind calls. If she could get close enough, she was sure she could make him change back to himself. Then no more people would get hurt. And her papa wouldn't have to kill poor Quincy.

Beast, she thought at him. It’s Marti. Stop. Wait for me. Stop!

He finally slowed, pausing to look over his shoulder. He was on all fours and she couldn't see him very well in the moonlight but he looked bigger than she remembered. Bigger and so scary she had to remind herself he wouldn't hurt her.

I’m your friend, she told him silently. Your friend Mart. Wait for me.

Jumbled pictures and feelings slammed into her mind-- long, sharp fangs sinking into bloody meat, a dead man with gory furrows clawed along his naked skin, a glimpse of Leo, the excitement of running free, and the threat of attack if anyone or anything tried to stop him. Marti's steps faltered. There was hardly anything left of Quincy in him now, unlike when he'd shifted while locked in the tower room.

He was warning her to leave him alone. Maybe she'd better. Maybe he really would hurt her if she didn't. Marti halted, watching him spurt ahead and vanish into the darkness. She looked around, realizing she didn't know where she was or in which direction she'd come from.

Where was the fence she'd crawled under, leaving Waino and Jael on the other side, both too big to squeeze through the tiny opening? She had no idea. Opening her mind in a search for Jael didn't work, she found no trace. Instead, she sensed something so dark and ominous she snapped her mind closed and huddled in on herself, wishing she could disappear. Not only the beast hunted this night.

The moon slipped behind a cloud, leaving her in total darkness. She'd never been so frightened in her life. Not even when she flew with the owl. A whimper rose in her throat but she swallowed it fearfully.

Where were all the people who lived in this city? At the wedding there'd been so many, too many, all pressing in on her until she thought she'd burst. Where had they all gone? Terrified, fearing to look with her mind lest the dark hunter find her, she had to search with only her eyes and her ears and she didn't see nor hear a trace of anyone. Afraid to move, she hugged herself, shivering. It seemed forever before she saw a light in the distance. Two lights. Car headlights.

Stumbling in the darkness, Marti ran toward the head- lights. Surely it must be papa and Jael, looking for her. She eased open her mind long enough to call Jael silently but there was no answer.

Still some distance away, the car turned, driving on until she could no longer see its lights. Marti struggled against her fear of the dark hunter, finally clearing her thoughts enough to realize that if she'd seen a car there must be a road because cars drove on roads. If she walked straight ahead she'd come to a road and then she wouldn't be lost any more. If she was on a road, papa would drive the truck along the road and find her. Wouldn't he?

It took a long, long time to get to the road but, when she reached it, the moon peeked out from the clouds and its rays showed her buildings on the other side of the road. Houses. With lights inside. Afraid to be alone in the night any longer, Marti ran toward the safety of the lights.

The first door she tried was locked. She banged with her fist but no one came. At the second house, the door opened and so she walked inside. A man sitting at a table with a bottle and a glass in front of him stared at her as though he couldn't believe his eyes.

Finally he blinked and shook his head. "Don't cry, little girl," he said in a slurred voice.

Marti didn't even know she was crying but she touched her cheek and found it wet.

"C'mere," he said.

She didn't think he was the dark hunter but she hesitated to use her mind to make sure.

"I ain't gonna hurt you," the man said. "C'mere."

Not knowing what else to do, she obeyed. He reached for her, closed his hand around her wrist and pulled her onto his lap. He smelled bad and she didn't like being on his lap so she tried to squirm off and onto her feet but he wrapped an arm around her body so she couldn't. Fear and anger started pressure building in her head, making it impossible for her to creep into his mind and see what was in there even if she dared to try.

What if he was the dark hunter, after all? She fought desperately to get away from him.

He laughed at her struggles. With his free hand he lifted the half-filled glass from the table and put it to her mouth. "This'll dry your tears, honey," he said.

A few fiery drops stung her tongue before she jerked her head aside. She'd never tasted anything worse. Some of the liquid splashed on her dress and the smell was as bad as the taste.

He drank what was left in the glass and set it back onto the table. "Rotgut," he muttered. "Don't blame you."

Putting his hands on her waist, he lifted her until her face was even with his. "Give the ole man a l'il kiss, sweetheart," he said. Before she could raise her hands to thrust him away, his wet. slobbery lips covered hers.

Marti gagged, the increasing pressure inside her head making it throb painfully. Even worse than at the wedding.

Terror blended with hate in a pulsing, burning fire, pounding in her mind until everything blurred into a red fog so dense and thick she couldn't see or hear or think.

And then she exploded.