Jory Strong: Healer's Choice

Addai fought against a sharp bark of laughter. He almost regretted Caphriel wasn’t here to witness it and deliver a quote.

With a thought he moved near to where the Lioness hid. A choice now, for her. Ambition or jealousy.

Jealousy won, at least for the moment.

He followed Kala as once again she trailed Levi, this time to the forests behind the rubble remains of the maze. Circles within circles , Addai thought, having seen the cycle repeat for thousands of years. So often beginnings and endings passed through the same place, nearly indistinguishable from one another.

From her hiding place the Lioness watched as Feliss shed her clothing, revealing a completely human form. Kala sneered, already guessing the Deer intended to flee the brothel and thinking that, mixed form or human, Feliss had no chance of escaping Allende.

Her expression darkened as Feliss clung to Levi, whispered, “I’m scared.”

“I know, but it’s too dangerous for you to remain with Rebekka and me any longer. I’m surprised the alarm hasn’t already been raised. This is your chance to escape Oakland and the vice lord’s easy reach. You’ve got to take it.”

Levi kissed her tenderly before extricating himself from her arms. He bent over and gathered her discarded clothing, touching the pocket and smiling. “Rebekka gave you money?”

“Yes.”

“Then do it, Feliss.”

Tears fell. “Go with me.”

“You know I can’t.”

Feliss gave a low cry of pain and slowly began changing from woman to deer as Levi twisted her clothing, using strips of leather to turn the bundle into a collar. When she stood trembling next to him, wet like a newborn fawn from the effort to shift forms, he placed the clothing around her neck and said, “Leave now.”

She took the first tentative steps forward, tail flicking. Then several more that were bolder. A look back at Levi, eyes pleading, but he shook his head and turned away, his emotions hidden from Addai in a way the Lioness’s weren’t.

Kala’s expression of shock slid into one of ambition and cunning. When she remained in the woods instead of following Levi out of them, a whisper of compassion moved through Addai.

The remembered pain of losing Sajia made him hesitate. But in the end he decided against interfering. War was coming and sacrifices were inevitable.

ARYCK found the sights before him unpalatable and nightmarish. A short time in the brothels owned by the vice lord Allende and he understood Rebekka’s choice to return. How could she turn her back on those she cared about when this was their fate?

He’d killed outcasts in the challenge circle when guilt drove them to continue fighting after Nahuatl ordered a halt to call for a change of form. He’d hunted those sentenced to death, but he’d never had to follow one of them into the human world. He’d never seen this for himself.

She’d described what life was like for the outcasts who lived in brothels, told him of the brutality and degradation. But even as he listened, a part of him had remained sure they lived as they deserved to live. He was no longer willing to make such a sweeping generalization.

Aryck turned away from the glass allowing him to watch as humans were serviced by those trapped between forms. Rebekka’s scent lingered in this brothel more than it did in the others, a sweet blend of woman and compassion surviving in the cesspit stench of unwashed bodies and stale sex.

His purity of form along with the payment of coin allowed him to move unhindered from building to building. It gave him free rein to watch, though nothing he saw gave him pleasure or made his cock stir with desire.

This was the fifth brothel. There’d been no sight of Rebekka, and he could find none of the prostitutes she’d mentioned by name. It made his fear for her deepen.

In growing desperation he sought out the bore-tusked madam, Dorrit. Asked if she knew Levi’s whereabouts, thinking she’d lie if he asked about Rebekka.

Small pig-eyes took his measure. There was calculation in Dorrit’s gaze. Suspicion. But in the end she said, “Check the bar.”

Aryck moved through the parlor where males and females alike lined up, suffering the meaty pawing of a merchant as bodyguards looked on and a second man whined about the poor selection.

He followed the smell of beer and unwashed bodies to a dark room where a waitress knelt in front of a chair, working a man’s shaft in and out her mouth as he sprawled in his chair, swilling his drink and bragging to his companions about staving off release to make her earn her money.

Levi stood with his back to the scene. His head bent in a whispered conversation with the bartender.

He stiffened, feeling Aryck’s eyes on him or catching his scent. Turned as Aryck neared, an unwelcome expression on his face. “Go away and stay away. You’ve hurt her enough. She deserves better.”

Anger flashed through Aryck, mixed with jealousy. Levi’s charge was well deserved, but he couldn’t stop himself from inhaling, half fearing and half expecting to discover Rebekka had turned to the outcast in her pain and let him comfort her with physical intimacy.

Relief came at finding no sign they were lovers. Shock followed at the difference in the outcast’s smell.

Not human with only a hint of Lion as it had been before. Not lion with only a hint of human as Cyrin’s was, but an unmistakable blend of the two, the scent of a pure Were.

Rebekka. Though Aryck couldn’t explain it, every instinct told him she was somehow responsible.

“Take me to her,” he said, willing to put aside his pride. “I’ve failed her repeatedly, but let her be the one to decide if she’s willing to give me another chance to prove myself.”

Levi’s eyes burned with harsh judgment. No hung in the air between them, if not permanently, then at least until the Lion judged Aryck had suffered in equal measure to Rebekka.

ADDAI watched as yet another naked female rose from her hands and knees and left Allende. Shadowing the Were vice lord was very nearly a punishment, but after thousands of years of waiting, what were a few hours more, a day or week of added torment?

A servant appeared in the doorway as if on cue. “Two of the brothel prostitutes are at the gate, my lord. One of them has her hands bound behind her and is gagged. The other says she has important business with you.”

“Interesting,” Allende said, idly picking up a knife at the corner of his desk and touching the hilt to his lips, half closing his eyes as he inhaled the scent of woman. “Do you recognize either of them?”

“No, my lord.”

Allende stood. “I’m in the mood for exercise, perhaps even a little sport. Have them brought to the courtyard.”

The servant hurried off to do the vice lord’s bidding. Unseen, Addai followed Allende.

Moments later, escorted by bodyguards, Kala and Feliss were positioned in front of the Were who owned their lives. Allende’s eyebrows rose in silent query then abruptly lowered.

He tilted his head, studying Feliss intently as if comparing her to a mental picture. His eyes narrowed and his mouth firmed, the good humor that had brought him to the courtyard disappearing.

“Turn her around,” he told Kala.

The Lioness obeyed, and though Feliss shook with terror, she didn’t resist or try to pull away from Kala’s grip.

Allende lashed out with the knife, a swift, sure strike slicing through the back of Feliss’s dress and bisecting the smooth flow of human skin between delicate shoulder blades, scoring just deeply enough so blood slowly welled to fill the cut.

Allende said nothing. Only when the blood gathered and began to slide downward did he take his eyes off his handiwork and look at Kala.