Twelfth Moon (34 page)

“It occurred to me quite a while back, that the dark-haired, dark-skinned strangers were most likely…Indians. From what you told me about your friend, Ba'cho, it is entirely conceivable it was his people who visited our ancestors generations ago. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Ba'cho himself had been among them.”

Jonah was surprised to have his suspicions confirmed. “Are there – are there shape-shifters in our family?”

His father laughed. “No. Not that I know of at least. The bloodline most likely became too thinned out. But you, my boy, carry it within you. All it took was a catalyst to regenerate what was already inside you, lying dormant.”

“But that would mean Ba'cho and his people are—”

“Shape-shifters? I don’t know. But from what I recall, it was said they were an exceptionally handsome group of people.” His father grinned. “So it’s not inconceivable that our bloodlines mixed. Have you seen any of them shift?”

“No.”

His father rubbed his thumb and two fingers along his chin, something he often did when he was thinking out a problem. “It could be just a fluke, the effect Cadence’s blood had on you.”

They were interrupted by the arrival of Jonah’s clothes. There was a pair of trousers, a silk shirt, drawers, socks and shoes. They were of a much better quality than the clothes Jonah had borrowed from Cadence’s father, but not that he cared. He was used to riding a dusty trail wearing the simple garb of a cowboy.

Jonah waited until the door was closed, and then he locked it. “You ready?”

His father took a deep breath before finishing off his drink. “As ready as I’ll ever be, son.”

Jonah emptied his own glass in one swallow.
Well, here goes
. It only took an instant and Jonah had ripped through his clothes, transforming into a large black panther. He heard his father’s sharp intake of breath.

“
Good Holy God
.” His father shot up from his chair, bracing his hands on the desk, transfixed by what he’d just witnessed. “That’s some talent you got there, son.”

Jonah changed back to his human form, immediately reaching for the pile of clothes he’d set within easy reach. When he finished dressing, he watched his father warily, who’d sat back down, and was pouring more whiskey into his glass with steady hands. His father’s strength and courage had always impressed Jonah. “You’re not…disgusted?” Jonah’s voice was rough.

His father’s gaze snapped to Jonah’s, his expression showing surprise. “Of course not. I’ll admit I’m a little shocked, but I’m most definitely not disgusted.” His features softened. “You’re my son, Jonah. I love you. I’m proud of you, of what you’ve accomplished, of the man you’ve become.”

Jonah had to fight the lump tightening his throat. He’d always known his father loved him, but had never actually heard him say the words out loud. “I love you too, father,” he said, his voice rough.

“Maybe if I’d said it more often to you and to Robert—”

“Don’t, father,” Jonah said gently. He’d told his father a little of the story he’d come up with, about Robert’s death and the ‘gunfight’ with his killer. “Robert was a grown man. He’d set his own path. Let him rest in peace.”

His father sighed heavily. “You’re right.”

Neither one of them spoke for a drawn-out moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Perhaps, someday, Jonah would tell his parents what had really happened. But for now, he wanted them to keep their good memories of Robert. Snapping himself back to the current situation, he asked, “What about mother?”

“We’ll have to tell her about your special talents, you know.”

“I thought so, too. Once Cadence and I have children—”

“I see what you mean. That could present a problem if we’re not prepared. I’m not sure about Samantha just yet, however. She’s such a little flibbertigibbet. I love my sweet girl dearly, but she might let the cat out of the bag without really meaning to.”

“She’ll have to be told sometime.” Jonah dragged his fingers through his hair. “I’m not even sure what shape-shifter children are like – how they behave, how they develop, or if they’re born as human babies. I’m going to have to talk to Cadence about it.”

Jonah’s mind suddenly filled with an image of Cadence, her belly swollen with his child, and felt a surge of male possessiveness the likes of which he’d never experienced before. It nearly made him growl. The thought of his seed taking root inside her body, creating a new life, a part of them both, was heady, intoxicating. Suppressing a grin, he thought about how much he would like to get working on it right away.

“OH, MY GOODNESS gracious!”

Jonah’s mother had just witnessed the same transformation his father had less than an hour ago. Another change of clothes had been sent for, and a makeshift curtain had been erected in his father’s study in deference to his mother’s,
and his
, modesty.

She turned toward Cadence. “And you can do this as well…change into a panther?”

Jonah answered before Cadence was able to. “Yes, she can mother. My fiancé will not be tearing out of her clothes in front her future in-laws, however, so we won’t be having a demonstration. I’m sure it would break some very important rule of propriety, but if not, we should adopt one immediately.” He nearly growled that last bit. Cadence was his and his alone. She belonged to him. No one would be witnessing a glimpse of her perfect naked glory, no matter how fleeting.

Cadence chuckled, her green eyes twinkling. “There you have it. The new Kincaid credo: One should not shape-shift in mixed company, lest one has a change of clothes at hand, and a curtain to hide behind.”

Darkness suddenly clouded Jonah’s vision. When it cleared, he focused with sharp clarity on his father. His nostrils flared. His gut clenched. Muscles tensed, clamping down on bone in preparation to eliminate a rival male. He let out a low, rumbling snarl.

“Jonah?”

Cadence.

It was her soft voice that broke through the violent haze shrouding his mind. Her dewy-fresh scent insinuated itself into his consciousness, calming him.

What was he doing?

This was his father, for Christ sake! He was not a threat. The darkness that had engulfed Jonah abruptly dissipated, revealing the stark reality of what he’d almost done. He broke out in a sweat, his limbs trembling. He’d had the insane urge to rip out his father’s throat. The only thing that had mattered was that there was another male in the room who had to be eliminated.

Thank God he was able to pull himself out of it before he’d gone too far. Jonah let out a sigh of relief, once again aware of his surroundings. He looked around the room, only to find three pairs of eyes staring at him in stunned silence.

Jonah’s gaze met his father’s. “I’m sorry.” His voice was raw with the guilt that nearly consumed him. “It won’t happen again, I’ll make sure of it.” He definitely needed to get control of that particular instinct. It wouldn’t go over too well if he were to rip out the throat of some man at a dinner party for merely speaking to Cadence.

His father let out a relieved breath. “It’s all right, son. No harm, no foul.”

Cadence moved to stand next to Jonah, fitting her hand through his arm. She gave him a gentle squeeze, and looked up at him with a smile. “We’ll have to work on that, won’t we, honey?” She shifted her attention to his parents. “I’ve been helping him learn how to control his shape-shifting ability, but I hadn’t considered the territorial behavior of a male panther. As females, the only time our protective instinct surfaces, is when someone we care about is in danger, and to a more intense degree, when our children are threatened.”

His mother sank into one of the chairs by the fireplace. “I must admit it’s come as quite a shock to find out my son can transform himself into a panther.” Her gaze shifted to Cadence. “And you too, my dear. It’s all quite extraordinary.”

Jonah hadn’t mentioned the fact that he could travel from one place to another in the blink of an eye. He’d decided to save that one for another day. He figured he’d dropped enough surprises on his parents. “You seem to be taking it all rather well, mother.”

“Well, dear, we may only be your parents,” his mother said with a sniff, “but we’re not made of spun sugar, you know.”

Jonah laughed. “Yes, I do know that, and I apologize if I might have inadvertently suggested that you were.”

“After all,” his mother continued, “we’ve known about our family history for much longer than you. I, for one, have always held the conviction that there was more truth than fiction to those stories.”

“More like wishful thinking, I would say.” His father moved to put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Your mother has always been a bit of a believer in metaphysical phenomena. In fact her women’s club has made a study of it.”

His mother piped up, excitement in her voice. “Yes, indeed. You wouldn’t believe the things that go on in this city. All you have to do is pay attention. Too many people just go about their business without having a clue about the voodoo, black magic, and secret ceremonies that go on right under their very noses.”

Jonah looked at his mother and wondered how he’d missed this interesting aspect of her. He dragged a hand through his hair. “And on that note, I think it’s time we get back. There’s much to be done in the next few days.”

After saying their goodbyes, Jonah was helping Cadence into the carriage when she experienced the sensation that they were being watched. The suddenness with which it hit her, along with its intensity, made her stumble.

Jonah steadied her, concern etched on his features. “Are you all right?”

Something bad was going to happen, but she didn’t know what is was, or when it would happen. “Yes, I’m fine.” No sense in alarming Jonah just yet.

Twenty Eight

THERE WAS THAT feeling again. Cadence couldn’t shake the sensation of eyes watching her as she stuffed another item into her bag. She’d gone back to the house to get the last of her things. A shiver ran down her spine as she realized the house was empty except for her – and possibly whoever it was she felt watching her.

The wedding ceremony had been held at Jonah’s parents’ house, as his mother had suggested, with only close friends and family in attendance. Before Cadence knew it, she was entering the Kincaid family drawing room, dressed in a simple but elegant gown of rose-colored silk, about to speak vows to love, honor, and obey.

Her Papa was there, beside her, lending his quiet strength as she’d placed her hand on his arm. When she’d spied Jonah at the far end of the room, she acknowledged the violent fluttering of her heart. He’d cut a commanding figure, his dark blue tail-coat molding his strong shoulders and deceptively lean frame, which she knew was all hard muscle.

“Are you ready, my Cadence?” her Papa had asked softly. Then they’d begun the short walk to where Jonah stood waiting.

“I’ve never been more ready, Papa.”

Before they could reach him, Jonah approached, moving easily, gracefully, for a man so large. It made her breath catch, for this was the first time she’d seen him dressed in such finery. Her Papa took her hand, placing in Jonah’s, accompanied by the words that gave her into Jonah’s keeping.

Jonah had insisted on inviting his best friend, Gavin Thompson and Beth Ann. After the ceremony, Jonah had whisked Cadence through the small gathering in the direction of his friend and former fiancé. Their faces registered pleased surprise when Jonah came up to them, clasped Gavin’s hand, pulling him into a bear hug, and then giving Beth Ann a brotherly hug.

Gavin was almost as tall as Jonah, with short, wavy chestnut hair and eyes the color of sapphires. He was very handsome and Cadence couldn’t help but be charmed by him. She could see how Beth Ann had become enamored of him, although Cadence still felt a little outraged by what she’d done to Jonah.

She could also see why both men had been drawn to Beth Ann. She was beautiful, her creamy cheeks boasting a natural blush. She was slightly taller than Cadence, and had pale-blonde hair, large, wide-set brown eyes, and full lips. But it was Beth Ann’s sweet, shy manner that had won Cadence over. Beth Ann seemed like a genuinely nice woman, and Cadence sensed nothing but the best of intentions from her. Cadence believed Beth Ann had truly not wanted to hurt Jonah, but had fallen irrevocably in love with his friend.

Because of that, Jonah had been thrown into Cadence’s path, something she would forever be grateful for.

Later, her father had announced his intentions to finally marry Mrs. Riley, and they, along with Mrs. Clemens, had accepted the invitation to live with Cadence and Jonah.

Their house – her new home – was enormous, with a private wing for her father and future step-mother. Cadence had urged Mrs. Clemens to retire and enjoy a much-earned life of leisure, but the cook had refused, at least in part, to relinquish all of her duties. Mrs. Clemens had agreed to a partial retirement as long as she could serve as overseer in the kitchen.

It had been agreed upon by her entire family that the old house would be refurbished and set up as an orphanage. The house was large enough, and with Jonah’s money, they would be able to hire the necessary staff to run it. Tommy would continue on as the groundskeeper.

Shaking her head with a smile, Cadence recalled the scene at the train station that had taken place yesterday. Jonah had offered Ba'cho, Nah-kah-yen, and Too-ah-yay-say the use of his private rail car to take Jaelene back to their village, or at least as far as it would take them.

Ba'cho had accepted with a grin, commenting on how much nicer it would be to travel in comfort, than to purposely subject oneself to the rigors of the trail. Cadence thought it rather odd that a seasoned Apache warrior could so easily conform to modern conveniences. But then Ba'cho was a mystery all to himself.

Kara had arrived at the station, travel bag in hand, facing them all with determination. “I’m going with you.” The defiant set of her slight shoulders had dared anyone to deny her.

Ba'cho, of course, had so dared.

Her tenacious sister, however, was having none of it. She’d stood toe to toe – or rather on her tiptoes – facing Ba'cho like a warrior goddess in her own right. Her small finger poked his chest for emphasis as she spoke – growled – each word. “I’m going and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”