Moon Runner 01 Under the Shadow Page 7

  When he returned to himself, he'd found he couldn't recall what the beast had done. He had no way of discovering what knowledge the beast had of his memories, if any, but the beast was a dangerous and formidable killer. The last he remembered of the fight with the Americanos was three men pummeling him--one with a knife. Though he was strong and fit, he couldn't have vanquished all three. The beast had killed each and every one. He'd changed involuntarily because his life was in danger so it was possible the necessity to survive would prompt a change. Did the moon have to be near full for danger to prompt a shift? He couldn't be sure.

  So far the beast hadn't killed anyone Ulysses knew but he couldn't count on that. A shudder rippled through him as he pictured a newly married Esperanza waking up in the night to find a beast in bed with her.

  He'd learn more the longer he lived with the beast, Ulysses thought grimly. He turned onto his side and a faint scent of violets drifted to him from his pillow. A lump rose into his throat. Esperanza. How could he bear to leave her? Tears stung his eyes and he fought to keep from sobbing.

  When the time came, the original Ulysses had to leave Nausicaa, he reminded himself. Ulysses had to go home.

  Ah, God, where was his home?

  Ulysses drifted in darkness with danger pressing close on all sides. His only chance to survive was to remain a man. The first glint of silvery light tensed him. Not the moon!

  With the moonlight came the scent of violets. No, he cried silently, not her. If he changed and died, what did it matter? But if he changed and killed her--?

  Ulysses sprang up, blinking in the sudden light. Sunlight. And Esperanza.

  "How you startled me!" she scolded. "I almost dropped the tray."

  He sat back on the bed, his heart pounding. He'd fallen asleep in his room at the casa. It was morning.

  "I had a bad dream," he confessed.

  Esperanza frowned. "I don't wonder. But last night is over and done with, the saints be praised, and we're still alive. See, I've brought you breakfast." She set the tray on a small table next to the bed. "I prepared everything myself."

  Ulysses couldn't tear his gaze from her. Though paler than usual, she was so lovely with her big dark eyes and shining black hair.

  Esperanza blushed. "You're staring at me." She reached for a cup and handed it to him. "Here, drink this."

  He took the cup and put it to his lips, still bemused. Sipping the sweet reddish liquid, he wondered vaguely what it was. Some kind of fruit juice, he supposed.

  "Don't put the cup down until you drink it all," she insisted. "It will help you regain your strength."

  He drained the cup, set it on the table and reached for her hand, holding her palm to his lips. "I'd sooner taste you than anything else," he told her, desire simmering inside him, despite everything.

  She smiled. "That's why I left the door open."

  He hadn't noticed. Dropping her hand, he shook his head. He no longer had any right to touch her.

  "Before papa left the casa he told me to tell you Don Rafael has brought two men to help today, so you won't be needed."

  Damn it, he'd wanted to dig the graves. It was his duty to bury those he'd killed. Ulysses started to rise, found his head swimming and sat down abruptly. What was the matter with him? Even as he wondered, his vision blurred and his mind grew fuzzy. He struggled against the lethargy creeping over him, fear fueling him.

  The bruja, she'd done this to him.

  "Ulysses!" Esperanza cried, her voice coming from far away. "What's wrong?"

  He heard no more.

  Ulysses, naked, woke to night and cold. His eyes slitted open, he lay still, gathering his wits. The scent of pine and the chill breeze told him that, though he lay on wood, he was outdoors. Where? Without moving his head, he opened his eyes fully. It wasn't true night but the hours just before dawn. The moon, thank God, had set.

  When he was certain he sensed no human near him, he sat up cautiously. His head ached slightly, his mouth tasted foul, otherwise he was all right. He blinked as he looked at the bars crisscrossed in front of him, unsure of what he saw in the uncertain light.

  He stood and his head brushed wood. His touch confirmed what he'd seen. Metal bars in front of him, solid wood on the other three sides, a wooden floor and ceiling. He was in a cage.

  He was naked, as he always was after shifting. Had he shifted? He didn't know but he didn't think so. The last he recalled was morning in his room in the casa and Esperanza giving him a cup of juice, urging him to drink it all. He'd passed out from a potion the bruja had put into the juice.

  He didn't blame Esperanza--she knew no better than to trust Tia Dolores.

  Now it was nearly dawn. Who'd taken him from his room and locked him in this cage? Not Tia Dolores, at least not alone. Don Rafael? He nodded. Easy enough for the bruja to drug Esperanza as he'd been drugged so she wouldn't know what was happening. Don Alfonso had been going to arrange for Juan's church burial--no doubt he'd ridden to the tiny church on the road to Monterey to talk to the priest.

  But why lock him in a cage? Why hadn't they simply killed him when he was helpless? Remembering what tonight was, the hair prickled on his nape. Tonight a full moon rode the sky. And the bruja knew what happened to him then. He'd be a caged beast for whatever sinister purpose she intended. With a yell of rage and frustration, he wrenched at the bars, struggling to free himself. He slammed into one side of the cage, then the other but nothing gave. At last he was forced to pause for breath. Had they made this cage to hold him? Ulysses shook his head. No, his prison wasn't new.

  And when he took the time to notice, he smelled a definite stink of bear.

  He was trapped in a grizzly cage.

  He thought of Juan's stories of bull and bear baiting. Did they mean to pit the beast against a bull? Aware of the ferociousness of the beast, he thought it would be no contest. The bull would die in minutes. A grizzly would be another matter. He'd never seen one but, if Juan's description could be trusted, grizzlies were twice as large as black bears and ten times as dangerous.

  Did his beast self stand a chance against a grizzly?

  All he knew was that the beast would be hard to kill. If, by chance, the beast overpowered the bear, would he be allowed to run free? Ulysses grimaced. Never!

  The Californios would have their sport. Whatever happened, they'd kill him, one way or another. He was doomed. Would could save him? Not Don Alfonso. Though he doubted the don had been told what he was, once he knew, he'd regard the beast with loathing, regard Ulysses with loathing. Once the full moon shone on him, all watchers would see the shapeshifting abomination for themselves.

  Again he flung himself at the bars, yanking at them with all his strength. Some of the wooden crosshatching gave way but not the metal bars nor the heavy oak they were set into. He couldn't reach the massive bolt securing the door and it wouldn't jar loose no matter how he rocked the cage. Eventually he tired and stopped. He was also hungry and thirsty and he was well aware he wouldn't be fed or given water. If he exhausted his strength in a futile attempt to escape, wouldn't the beast's strength tonight be that much less?

  Crouching in a corner of the cage, he rested.

  A hell of way to die, he told himself, wishing that Don Alfonso wouldn't be a witness to his shifting--but Don Rafael would make certain the don came. Juan had told him the senoras and senoritas didn't watch the bull and bear fights so at least Esperanza would be spared the horror of knowing what he was--for whatever comfort that gave him.

  When the sun rose Ulysses saw exactly where on the rancho he was--in the small pine grove at the eastern edge of the Alvarado property. He wondered where the fight was to be--if that's what Don Rafael and the bruja had in mind. Perhaps they only meant to exhibit him like a zoo animal. Ulysses shook his head. He'd humiliated Don Rafael, exhibition wouldn't be enough revenge. Don Rafael would relish watching him torn to bits by a grizzly, would delight in killing him if the grizzly didn't.

  Even if Don Rafael didn't hate h
im for personal reasons, he'd stand no chance. Men killed his kind whenever they could. He may have forgotten his past but that was a truth bred in his bones.

  He'd never had a day pass so slowly. Though he did his best to ignore his thirst, his need for water tormented him until it distracted him from his perilous predicament. He cursed the bruja and her evil potions that first stupified a man and then drove him mad with thirst. He pictured water spilling from the high reaches, cool and delicious, splashing into the the streams that fed the rivers flowing into the sea, water from the snowmelt on the cone-shaped mountains. Ulysses blinked. Cone-shaped? He'd seen no mountains like that since he'd come to on the beach. Was this a memory from the past?

  Cone-shaped meant volcanic. How well he remembered studying volcanos. He'd been smart enough but not as brilliant as the one he shared his studies with, not as smart as--

  The thought winked out like a quenched ember and he couldn't bring it back, couldn't recall the name that, for a moment, had hovered on the edge of his mind--a name he was sure would uncover his shrouded past.

  Bitterness overwhelmed him. Was he to die without knowing who that other had been? Die without his own real name? He slammed his fist on the solid floor of the cage.

  He could almost believe he'd been cursed with an evil dolya at the moment of his birth.

  A dolya was man's fate personified and her power had no limits. Nor could a man ever rid himself of her. A good dolya helped a man all his life, smoothing his path and bringing good fortune. His, obviously, was the wrong kind. Ulysses pressed the heels of his hands to his temples. Why could he remember a dolya instead of what he so desperately longed to know?

  The sun was lowering when he sensed the horses and their riders. Four. And another man, with oxen. He waited as calmly as he could, determined to show no fear. They reined in near the cage. Don Rafael, the only man he recognized, dismounted and swaggered close to the bars.

  "What have we here?" Don Rafael taunted. "It looks like a man, don't you agree, compadres? The devil is clever at disguise."

  "Let's get the cage on the cart and be done with it," one of the riders said, crossing himself.

  They were all Californios, the four riders and the man driving the ox-cart. Ulysses hadn't expected otherwise. Slowly and deliberately, he looked from one to the other. Nobody but Don Rafael met his gaze and two more of the men crossed themselves. They feared him, even in human form.

  Tia Dolores must have assured Don Rafael that the beast wouldn't appear until the moon rose but, though Don Rafael glared his hatred, Ulysses thought he seemed uneasy.

  "See the eyes," one of the men muttered. "Yellow, like a wolf's."

  "Do you know what's in store for you, devil-beast?"

  Don Rafael asked.

  Ulysses said nothing.

  "For the love of God, Don Rafael," the ox-cart driver pleaded, "the sun is almost gone. Do not delay."

  "You will die tonight!" Don Rafael cried. "You will die most painfully with all of us watching and cheering as you beg for your life."

  Ulysses clenched his jaw to keep from replying to the taunt. He was damned if he'd ever beg for his life. Not that he'd be in control once he shifted. But the beast sure as hell wouldn't beg, the beast would fight to the finish, no matter what the odds. And far more adeptly and viciously than he, as a man, could.

  Don Rafael glanced at the sun, half hidden behind the western hills, and nodded to the ox-cart driver.

  Ulysses braced himself while the cage dipped and swayed while the four men struggled to lift it into the cart. When he caught himself thinking he didn't look forward to the jolting ride to wherever the pit had been dug, he half- smiled. At least he'd survive the ride.

  "Mother of God, he smiles," a rider muttered. Without looking, Ulysses was certain the man had crossed himself again.

  Dusk had settled over the land by the time the cart lurched to a halt. By torch light the men again lifted the cage, this time fastening ropes around it. From close by an animal snarled menacingly. Ulysses, who'd sensed the grizzly for some time, now smelled the bear as well.

  Using the ropes, they lowered his cage into one end of a large and deep trench. In a similar cage at the other end,

  a massive golden-brown grizzly eyed him malevolently, fangs showing. Long, sharp claws rang against the metal as, growling, the bear sought to get at him.

  Staring at the bear, its scent rank in his nostrils, Ulysses prayed he would shift when the moon rose. Otherwise he didn't stand a chance--a naked man against a grizzly.

  At the lip of the pit, Don Rafael looked down and laughed. "A worthy opponent, devil-beast."

  Ulysses fought to control his panic. If he didn't keep his head, he might find himself begging, after all.

  Crouching once more in a far corner of his cage, he did his best to ignore the bear as well as the men who came to peer into the pit.

  There'd be quite a crowd tonight. As Juan had told him, the Californios enjoyed a good fight between animals. Too bad Juan would miss this one. At the moment he envied the dead man--for Juan, at least, it was all over.

  The evening darkened into night and Ulysses welcomed his first tinge of restlessness, recognizing it now as the beginning of the urge to shift. Since he had no choice he positioned himself at the bars, so the moon's light could reach him, and waited.

  Above him men laughed and shouted in the flaring torch light as more and more Californios arrived. A gathering, he he thought, like those in what Don Alfonso referred to as the the golden days. If only the don didn't have to see what he was.

  A single ray of silver light pierced the gloom in the pit and Ulysses took a deep breath.

  "No!" a woman's voice cried from above. "What have you done with him?"

  Esperanza! He looked up and saw the bruja gripping Esperanza's arm, forcing her to look at him. No! he tried to shout as his insides twisted painfully. No, don't watch!

  It was too late. He heard the grizzly roar as the terrible wrenching began. Then--nothing more.

  Free! Yet not free. He crouched behind metal bars, the stink of bear strong, the sense of many men equally powerful. The bear roared in challenge. Above him a woman screamed in terror. He flung himself against the iron bars but they held. So did the bars keeping back the enraged bear.

  The bars didn't give on his second or third try so, though his only thought was escape, he stopped hurling himself against them and waited, his every sense alert. Grizzly, he remembered, this golden bear was called.

  Two men, ripe with the acrid stink of fright, eased

  down into the pit on ropes. He heard the clink of metal, once, twice, then the men were hastily yanked up and out.

  He shoved against the bars and they gave, swinging open like a door. He was free!

  Before he could leap to the top of the cage and climb from the pit, the other cage door flew open and the fear- maddened grizzly rose on his hind legs and attacked.

  Chapter 6

  Moonlight touched the men lining the rim and slanted into the pit where, teeth gnashing, spittle foaming from its mouth, the grizzly bore down on the beast. With no room to duck aside in the narrow trench, the beast leaped into the air, twisted and came down on the bear's head and shoulders, forcing the animal to drop to all fours while he tore at its neck with his fangs.

  Roaring with pain and rage, the grizzly fought to shake his adversary, slamming him against the sides of the trench but the beast remained on the bear's back. With the first taste of blood, the beast no longer heard the curses and shouts of the men above him, no longer even sensed their presence. Blood lust shone redly in his eyes. His mind held only one command.

  Kill.

  From his perch on the back, he couldn't reach the throat. He dropped to the ground. Before the bear's long yellow teeth reached him, he slid underneath it and savaged its throat, hardly feeling the bear's claws rake down his back. Grizzly blood spurted over him, the bear coughed, staggered, then convulsed and collapsed. With its body half- covering him, he
drank his fill of the hot blood, still pulsing with life.

  A loud crack from above brought him to awareness, the blood lust fading. Another crack, another and another.

  Sharp stings in his shoulder and neck. Men. Guns. Escape or die.

  He slid from under the dead bear and leaped to the top of the grizzly cage, then clawed his way to the rim of the pit. Men shouted, guns cracked. The wounds along his back from the bear claws and the pain from the bullets slowed him but he pulled himself over the top and leaped to his feet. Snarling his defiance, he charged through the men, slashing with his fangs to right and left as he fought his way clear. He raced past the flaring torches but knew any men who pursued could still see him in the moonlight. He could easily outrun men but they had horses. His injuries sapped his strength, he must find cover or he was doomed.

  Skirting the temporary safety of a thicket because he feared he might be surrounded and trapped inside, he made for the nearest stream, sensing riders behind him, following.

  By the time he plunged among the trees along the stream, he realized he was flagging. He was in trouble. Never before had he been so badly hurt. If he could find a safe place to rest he might recover but he wasn't sure. He couldn't outrun the horses--to have any chance at all he must outwit their riders.

  He waded into the water and partially eased his raging thirst before padding upstream, sometimes on all fours, sometimes on his back legs to ease the pain in his shoulders. When the stream widened and the water grew deeper, he scrambled onto the far bank and slipped between the trees, following the stream toward dimly sensed hills. In the hills lay safety. If he could reach them.

  His pursuers thinned, dwindling finally to one rider.

  In his weakened state he feared he wasn't a match for a man with a gun so he staggered on through the night. Around him, animals either froze in terror or fled. Far off in the hills a coyote wailed, the sound beckoning him on. This brother to the wolf wasn't an ally--he had no friends--but he felt a kinship to the coyote as well as the wolf, a kinship he might have extended to the grizzly under other circumstances. When it was kill or be killed, self came first. Always.