Feral Magic by Robin D. Owens Read Free Book Online Page B

to where the land angled up to the road.  She stumbled a bit.
    What is wrong? he asked mentally.
    She straightened.  "I haven't seen much violence.  In real life, that is.  Not even fond of violent movies."
    The latter didn't make any sense, and as for the former... Your Klatch has no enemies?  No feuds?   An odd notion, but perhaps a little soothing.
    "There's only me.  My parents died a while back.  Airplane accident."  She glanced away, her shoulders went stiff.  "And I lost a lover who was a soldier," she whispered.  "But he fought and died in a distant land.  We are mostly peaceful here."  Her gaze still went past him.  "I have friends, of course.  None of us, um, fight or feud."
    One of the huge vehicles sounded a horn and Brandy jumped, then frowned back at him.  "You're a black panther sitting in yellow glass.  You'd better change.  If you can."  She turned back toward the car.
    Dak struggled with the knowledge that she was alone.   No parents or siblings, no extended family, no clan-klatch.  How could that be?  The idea took his breath, made his fur, warm in the hot sun, nearly as chilled as his blood.  Terrible.  Terrible.
    Yet she seemed...sane.
    "Can you change?  Do you need first aid?"  She pointed.  "I see your clothes over there."
    He shook his head, dismissing concepts that could wait to be discussed.  In cat form, he didn't think much about complex things, but the notion of no klatch hurt even his panther self.  Looking toward Favel, he saw the baby staring out the window at him with a concerned expression.  Brandy had removed the restraints so that Favel would not have been a trapped morsel for Bretine.  Smart Brandy.
    Dak sent a wave of love to his nephew, pride that the baby stayed safe in the car, reassurance that all was well.  Favel smiled.
    Brandy sighed and her shoulders relaxed.  She must sense something from him, too.  He waved his paw at the car and she nodded and returned to it, opening the passenger door and snapping the restraints over Favel, then circling around to the driver's side.
    Dak gazed up at the moon, felt the weak light it contributed to the day, but the strong magnetic power of it bathing him, healing him, allowing him to change.
    He limped over to his loincloth and the leathers that had fallen from his body since he'd changed so rapidly, along with his pack.  The clothes showed stains and scuffs and a couple of scars, but he put them on.  They were hot from the sun.
    Before he got back into the car, he glanced over his seat at Favel.  Then he reached out and tousled the baby’s hair, reiterating, You did well in the fight.  You stayed safe.  Do well now.  Stay quiet and safe.  You are Chief of the Klatch.   His nephew didn't understand all of those words or the concepts behind them, but knew the pride and the expectation of acceptable behavior from him.
    Favel glowed a little with the power of a royal.
    Brandy watched with an anxious face as Dak levered himself into the car.  He kept the groan of pain at pressure on his wounds behind his teeth, swung the door shut with a clunk, arranged his limbs carefully, and curled his hand over the rod above the door.
    She started the vehicle and moved it smoothly into a line of others on the road.  He didn't want to contemplate that and closed his eyes, saw red heat in the backs of his eyelids, then images from the fight.
    "What did you do to Bretine?"
    "Ah, wasp spray," she said.
    The concept of wasp translated into his head as a flying and stinging insect somewhat like szats .  Spray was no doubt something to deter them.  "You have a problem with wasps?"
    "I have an old house and they seem to be flying into a crack in my bricks.  I'll kill them with the spray, then patch the hole."  She sighed.  "I don't like killing.  Not even wasps."
    Obviously too soft-hearted.  Odd how that appealed to him.
    "But you attacked Bretine."  That appealed to him even more, and the fact that she'd come to his