One True Mate 7_Shifter's Paradox Page 6

  Electrodes. Joel had electrodes in his hand. Shock treatment. He dropped all but one and ripped the plastic covering off the adhesive and lowered his hand toward Leilani’s forehead slowly, as if anticipating her reaction. She cried.

  Evie lost it. She lost herself. Helplessness was the thing she hated most in all of the world. She was a woman of action. Make the decision, and then make it right. She grabbed up Leilani’s consciousness in both hands, not knowing how she was going to do it, but she knew one thing. She was getting Leilani out of there. They weren’t sticking around for shock treatment. That horror would drive anyone crazy.

  Leilani struggled so Evie let her go, then grabbed her hand. We’re getting out of here, she yelled, pulling.

  Leilani didn’t understand. Evie pulled at her, away from the front of her mind, back the way Evie had come in when she had come from Rhen’s meadow. But there was no way out. Only a wall. Solid. They couldn’t get through.

  Joel attached the last electrode to her. Evie pushed. She prayed. Rhen help me, help me help her and I swear I’ll never ask you for anything again.

  Joel’s voice came to them through Leilani’s ears. “A little zap and tickle never hurt anyone, just made them calm down, sleep a bit. That’s right, just relax...”

  The electricity switched on, the first jolts of it—

  PUSH.

  WHOOSH!

  Out of Leilani.

  Into the meadow.

  As soon as their bare feet hit the dirt and leaves, Leilani was off and scrambling away, running into the forest like a feral child. Evie let her go. The meadow would soothe and protect her.

  Evie caught her breath, willed her breathing and heartbeat to slow, then turned in a circle, eyeing the colors of the forest path.

  “Show me,” she said. “Where I just was.”

  Shades of pink, shades of black, pulsing, waving through the trees and plants of the forest, even the “dead” leaves on the ground. Dead like Evie was dead, though, which meant, not really dead at all.

  She did not know how or why she had ended up in Rhen’s meadow instead of in The Haven when she died.

  But she had not been surprised.

  She held her breath as the forest colors shifted, waiting with barely bated horror to see what pulling Leilani’s consciousness out of her body had done.

  Had she just killed a one true mate?

  8 - Rhen’s Meadow

  The colors of the meadow yawed in that way that Evie had learned to interpret over the years. Time passed differently here, both slower and faster and Evie hadn’t figured out when or why it did which, or if it was just messing with her.

  The colors said Leilani’s body had lived through them leaving, through whatever Joel had done, and now it was sleeping in a bed, an IV held high above it. She hadn’t been hurt. Hadn’t felt anything at all, the meadow said, she’d only been scrambled. Her neurons and nerves would never be quite the same again.

  Evie stared at the bluish sky, suspiciously like Earth’s sky, struggling to manage her emotions. Leilani’s poor brain and nervous system. No wonder she’d been crazy. Evie would cry over it if she cried. Shock treatment. Barbaric. She’d thought it was the time travel that had driven Leilani crazy, and Graeme had agreed it was probable. Maybe it was both.

  What was important though, was that she was ok. Alive. That Leilani could get back in her body and Evie could get Leilani to the KSRT. At this point, it might be easier to get the KSRT to her, even though that had proved impossible last time. Once one wolfen had caught her scent, discovered who she was, she would be safe. They would take her out of that place. Would get her help. The shiften doctors might have some way to fix her, or her sisters would. Those pendants pulsed with power visible even from Rhen’s meadow.

  So that was the plan. They had to get back in Leilani’s body. Get her out of the Roosevelt. Get her to the KSRT. Last time they had walked too far, shredding Leilani’s poor feet. This time they could go straight to the police station. What was the weather like? She didn’t even know what month or year it was. Time was so strange in Rhen’s meadow, making things like weather and seasons inconsequential.

  Evie headed in the forest path to the meadow, the dewy pink plants soft under her bare feet, like a corridor of roses laid down to soothe her personally. Rhen’s meadow was like any meadow on earth, bordered by forest, filled with wildflowers, covered by blue sky, found by a walking path, but it was also… otherworldly. The trees and wildflowers and grasses were softer than they should have been, more vibrant, and their colors often shifted without warning. The colors were almost never green.

  Evie headed down the path, needing to retreat to her office, follow each possible path out to each possible conclusions, so she had options A, B, and C firmly fixed in her mind.

  Rhen’s meadow was no place for a one true mate. It was a place where you could only speak to the living from within in their dreams, most of them.

  The colors followed Evie as she walked, shifting through their pinks. Pink. Fuschia. Red. Plum. Purple. Oh. Too far. Pull back. Rhen was in a pink and black mood, had been for 3 decades. Pouting, Evie called it.

  When she drew close to the junction where forest path opened up to meadow, she heard a voice to her left. Leilani. Her voice was soft but perfectly clear.

  Evie stopped and listened over the buzz of the bees and the butterflies and the slight whoosh of the wind through the leaves.

  Leilani’s voice. “Should I do it now?” She wasn’t crying anymore. She sounded… happy, or at least content, her voice clear and strong.

  Colors rippled. Shifted. Violet. Periwinkle.

  Leilani again, speaking clearly, but with intent. “Evie, this way, come this way. I need you.”

  Evie shivered. She was never going to get used to this time travel thing. Those were the words she’d heard in nowhere, showing her the way to Leilani.

  Evie was a strategist. Mystical bullshit had no place in combat or battle and therefore its presence made her uncomfortable. She didn’t quite know if time travel fell under mystical bullshit or not… but shouldn’t it?

  Leilani giggled from far off in the trees, talking to... someone. She didn’t need Evie.

  The guardian was gone. This was the Path of the Catamount, and the catamount was not on its distressed stone base. Catamount meant nothing more than cougar, but the guardian got pissed if you thought anything other than catamount. Evie did not need that bitch pissed at her today.

  Evie left Leilani and made her way to her office, her mind on the problem at hand.

  She needed her mate. Her sounding board.

  He was not there.

  She leaned back in her chair, stuck her bare feet on her desk, and closed her eyes.

  This was her strength. What she did best. Look at the big picture. Decide the best way forward. Run over it again and again in her mind until she saw the weakness, the way to the heart of the enemy. Or the problem.

  Possibilities? She ticked through them. Stay in the meadow with Leilani. Leave Leilani in the meadow by herself. Was such a thing even possible? She needed more data. She ran through the rest of the list then decided to go for the data. Could she leave Leilani in the meadow and go back to Leilani’s body by herself?

  She perched on the edge of the meadow with her mind, and reached out for Leilani’s flesh and blood in the Ula… and found nothing. Evie drifted, trying again and again. Nothing. Evie’s eyes snapped open and she stood. She couldn’t find Leilani without Leilani. Got it. Go get her. She headed out into the meadow.

  Leilani’s voice caught her attention. “Silly,” Leilani said, and her voice was brighter than it had been inside her own head. Less strained. “Those colors don’t mix.”

  Evie followed the sound of Leilani’s voice, through the meadow to a random forest path. Within only a few steps she came upon a clearing. Leilani lounged in the center of it on a buttery soft brown-leather recliner, her feet tucked under her, three steaming hot drinks on a coffee table at her side,
dressed in yoga pants and a hot pink t-shirt that read, “Baby, please don’t bore me!” in spiky black letters. Her long, straight, silky, brown-almost-black hair was down. She looked lovely, sweet, and catered to, like a lover had arranged all of her favorite things at her bedside while she slept, so she wouldn’t be bored while she waited for his return to their playground. Her eyes held no hint of madness.

  Her attention was held by a watercolor painting on an easel next to her of something black and slinky. A panther maybe. Catamount. She picked up a paint brush, added a bit of color to the eye of the cat, then returned her attention to the book in her hand. Evie scanned the cover. A Brief History of Time by Stephen Hawking. Which wouldn’t be out for almost a year, Evie knew, because crazy Leilani had been interested in that same book when she’d seen an ad for it in a magazine as they’d walked out of The Roosevelt a year ago. No, a few days ago. No, a year from now. She didn’t know.

  “If she spills any secrets that will make what we need to do easier, you let me know, ok, Lani?”

  Evie had spoken softly, not wanting to startle Leilani, but Leilani wasn’t startled. She looked up, the smile on her face large and genuine. “Eventine!” she cried and bounced to her feet, dropping her book on the chair and coming to hug her. “Thank you for bringing me here,” she said when she released Evie. “I love it.”

  Evie only nodded. “We can’t stay.”

  “I know. But it’s nice to be able to think.”

  Evie nodded. It was. Leilani’s body was a mess, drugs and institutional life slowing and stiffening it, and that included her brain and thought processes.

  Evie eyed Leilani’s bookshelf, the tiny one next to her chair, so she wouldn’t even have to get up in order to get another book. Shirtless men were all over the covers. Hey, that guy looked like Mac. Nice nipple. Shifter’s Lullaby. Huh. The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty. Nice. A whole shelf of books by Ophelia Bell. She picked up one of them.

  Leilani pointed to the book Evie had picked up, then sat back down in her chair, folding her legs under her again. “Animus. You have to read that one. I heard someone describe it as a ‘proper dragon boinkfest’ and that’s just about right.”

  Evie smiled. “Dragons, huh?” She rummaged through the pile. “Got any wolf boinkfests in here?”

  Leilani shivered. “Wolves? No.” She looked at Evie funny, a look Evie couldn’t quite interpret. “Sorry. No offense.”

  Evie frowned. “None taken.” Not the mate of a wolven then? Funny, she’d been positive a female as powerful as Leilani would end up with a male in the KSRT, and they were all wolven.

  Evie pulled out a few more books. Read the backs of them, while Leilani held her book in one hand and worked on her painting with the other.

  “Run across anything scary in the meadow?” Evie asked, trying to keep her voice light.

  “You mean the guardians?”

  Evie nodded tightly. Leilani pointed behind her. “The catamount is there in the trees.”

  Eventine whirled. No way. But she saw nothing. She narrowed her eyes, went that way a bit. She scented nothing. Again, not surprised. That cat hated her, didn’t think she should be there.

  She turned her attention back to Leilani. “Where did you get this stuff?”

  “I just asked for it. Rhen is very nice. She looks like you.” She put down her book and peered at Evie closely. “Are you related?”

  Evie raised her eyebrows and looked away, ignoring the question. “I came here for a reason. We have to get back into your body.”

  She waited for the inevitable questions. Leilani would want to know who and how and why and what was going on. But Leilani didn’t say a word. She just picked her book back up. “I’m not ready.”

  Evie stared. Had she been dismissed? She took a moment to prepare her argument in her mind and was just about to launch into it when Leilani held up a hand.

  “Look, I know this is an emergency to you and all your friends. I know time is different here. And I know that I’m a part of this and I am willing to do what I can, but I need to stay here for just a little bit. It’s exhausting to be in my body that’s been abused and pumped full of drugs and hated and neglected and fed food it doesn’t want. I need to recharge for what’s coming. I need to recharge here where I’m healthy and clear and strong.”

  Evie’s muscles went weak around the knees and the ankles. She firmed herself. “What’s coming?”

  Leilani wouldn’t say. Instead, she asked her own question. “Do you know how long they’ve been giving me thorazine?”

  Eventine shook her head.

  Leilani buried her head in her book again, her expression weary. “Me neither. I’m not ready.”

  9 - When were we?

  Evie stalked through the meadow, head down, eyes on the ground. There was no sun over Rhen’s meadow, and so the shadows were unpredictable, trying to track them a warrior’s meditation. It had been three hours. She would give Leilani another three hours. Then she would insist. Rhen knew that Leilani needed the rest, the break, the recharge, and Evie wanted her to have it. But she would not watch Khain win again.

  Until it was time to go to Leilani, she would let her thoughts rest upon her mate. There was no sense thinking strategy again until they were with the KSRT, so her thoughts could go to their favorite resting spot, Harlan. Her soldier with the heart of gold, her sensitive wolfen who would do anything to make her laugh, to shock her, to make her day bright and interesting. The male she had not spent enough time with. An eternity with Harlan would not be long enough for her.

  “Show me Harlan,” she told the meadow. She didn’t care where, or when, or how or what. The meadow was just as likely to show her Harlan today as it was to show her Harlan yesterday, or Harlan ten years ago and the meadow liked being allowed to pick.

  The colors of the leaves and the flowers and the grasses and the tone of the light in the sky shifted one shade cooler, then rippled with story.

  Harlan, young, older than ten, but not quite a teen. His cheeks were still rounded with adolescence, his face shining with fresh innocence, telling a tale of a rich, nourishing childhood with thoughtful adults. He was dressed in a suit, standing on a stage, his cheeks flushed, his eyes wide. Adorable. Evie’s heart skipped. She had never wanted young until just that moment and now her heart hurt with the loss. What would pups with him have looked like? Been like? Strong. Clever. Complex. Pups you didn’t so much raise, as you did your best to keep from their doom as they jumped into life with both feet, usually off roofs or trees.

  An announcer from somewhere spoke. Behind Harlan was a forest, but Evie wasn’t sure if it was real, or the meadow forest. She saw no crowd, but she knew there had been one there, that day in the past, when Harlan had been 12 years old. She’d heard this story from Harlan himself.

  Harlan Mundelein will now recite his award winning limerick, the announcer said, and Harlan’s face pinched. He scrunched up his eyes and spoke.

  There once was a wolf from Chicago..

  Evie gasped. That was not the limerick that had won.

  A noise behind her in the meadow. Someone clearing her throat. Evie turned. There was Leilani, the small meadow animals clustered around her like she was Rhen herself.

  “I’m here,” Leilani said, the rigid set to her body giving away exactly how hard it was for her to stay. “I’m ready.”

  Evie nodded, glanced at the flowers in the meadow, then said, “It’s night-time for at least a few more minutes. If we can get back in your body quickly, we might be able to sneak out past the night nurse tonight.”

  Leilani nodded sharply. “Ok, what do we do?”

  Evie watched her closely. “Can you sense your body?”

  Leilani frowned, then shook her head no, but her brows were furrowed, like maybe. “Sense it where? How?”

  Evie swept her arm wide. Everywhere. “Feel for it,” she said.

  But Leilani shook her head. She couldn’t.

  “Ok, how about this.” Evie faced Leila
ni, who looked fresh and young with her creamy skin and yoga pants and pink crop top, her long dark hair spilling around the curves of her breasts. It was a shame they were going back to Leilani’s body back on earth, which seemed more slight and wasted. Maybe even malnourished. “Tell me about you,” Evie said, closing her eyes again, hoping Leilani would try it, too.

  “What?”

  “Your body. You. Who you are.”

  Nothing. Leilani gave her a blank look.

  She tried a different tactic. “Do you have any scars?”

  “Scars, yeah, of course, who doesn’t?”

  Evie raised her eyebrows with her eyes still closed. She didn’t. “Tell me about one. How did you get it?”

  Leilani sorted through her memories, Evie could feel her doing it, kind of see hazy images in her own mind, memories of events she’d never lived. Evie kept her eyes tightly shut, because the rest of her senses told her they hadn’t left the meadow. Not yet. She crossed her fingers behind her back, wondering when she’d become superstitious.

  Leilani sorted scars and Evie felt the stories flip in front of her like app icons discarding them as quickly as she saw them. Evie felt a good one flip past.

  “There, that one. Tell me that,” she said to Leilani.

  “Oh!” Her voice was amused and a little proud of her younger self. “I was 5 and Tommy Sams said that I couldn't jump off the slide and I did but I scraped my forearm on the way down and sliced a flap of skin open but I didn’t care, because I’d done it, and then he said I was ugly so I—”

  Leilani’s voice faded out just a bit as they wobbled through nothing, toward Leilani’s body, rushing, then sliding, then slamming into it all scrambled-like. Evie grabbed ahold with her mind…

  Rip, tear, slam, bludgeon

  They were traveling, going where? When?

  Head over heels, Leilani landed on her feet, but her insides were scrambled and so were Evie’s. Instability rippled through Leilani’s body, like she was being twisted and stretched like taffy. Evie held her head, her hands up to her imaginary temples, which pounded. She clenched her fingers into fists and pulled them down by her sides, looking around with blurry vision, slowly. The forest where 12-year-old Harlan recited his winning limerick. They were at the back of the stage, near the steps he would come down when he was done, seeing the back of him. She could barely pick out the last line of his limerick.