Occam padded up to me and extended his claws, digging in the soft sand until he had scooped out a hole several inches deep. Water rose in the hole, but he shoved the roots in and then pushed the sand back over it. He looked at me and chuffed, saying clear as English,Draw from the land. From this little tree. Heal.
“You’re a smart kitty cat.” I reached to the small plant and placed my hands on the leaves. Dropped into the earth. And into Soulwood. Not that far away. I closed my eyes. Laid my head back. And felt pain I hadn’t consciously noted flow out of me. I dropped deeper into the earth. And breathed. Just breathed.
When I opened my eyes, the sun had moved and I was in shadow. No. Not the sun. The little shrub was a tall tree, maybe fifteen feet high. There were other trees and water plants growing all over the beach, which had been bare of greenery only moments before. I inspected my arms and ankles and bare feet. My abdomen. I was healed. I was also growing leaves from my fingertips and my toes. I reached up and felt leaves and twisty little vines, like grapevines, growing from my hairline all around.
“I didn’t know if I should trim you or let you grow,” Occam said wryly. I looked around at the voice. He was sitting on a rock, in the shade of a lower branch of the sapling, dry, dressed in ripped clothing.
“I grow leaves and vines now, when I...” I made a small flapping motion with my hand. Noticed my fingers were brown and wrinkled like the bark of a young tree. The leaves trailing from my fingers swirled with my motion. I sighed softly. “Oh dear.”
“So I see. Your hair grew out about six inches, Nell, sugar. It’s brighter, like the heart of a cedar tree.” His voice dropped,a caressing sound. “Your skin is still soft and smooth, but the color of bark. With my cat nose, your leaves smell of lavender and cedar and just a hint of eucalyptus, but also, just before I shifted to human, the scent was threaded through with catnip. My cat wanted to roll around in the leaves, the way he might if youwerecatnip.” There was a laugh in his voice. He sounded happy. I met his gaze, which had gone catty golden again. “And your eyes...” His voice trailed away. “Oh, Nell, sugar. Your eyes are emerald and tigereye and just a little blue fire. You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
I blushed hotly and could think of nothing to say at all, thinking back to my mental image of Occam walking along the bank of the Tennessee River, naked and glorious. I shook the thought away. Pea rolled over and blinked at us. Unconcerned.
“I’m not gonna wait till that dinner to kiss you again. I know the men in your life to this point have taken what they wanted and not asked. I want to kiss you again, a possibly improper kiss. I’m gonna back you against a wall and hold you still, gentle and rough all at once. I’m gonna put my mouth on yours and I’m gonna take my time exploring.”
With my background I might have been, maybe should have been, horrified, but... this was Occam. And I felt my face flame and a zing of electricity flash through me at the thought of him holding me just so.
“I’m gonna kiss you until you’re gasping for breath and begging for more. Fair warning about that. But I’ll wait until you say yes. You gonna say yes, Nell?”
I was breathing too fast, my pulse tripping. But I let a small smile cross my face. “Oh yes, Occam. I’ll be saying yes. Just... warn me. Okay? So I don’t shoot you by accident.”
Occam laughed, a chuffing rush of sound.
SIXTEEN
I made it to the top of the stairs without touching the icky handrail. By the time I reached the top, I was shivering. The day’s heat had been nice, but the chill of early evening was blowing in on the river breeze, following the course of the Tennessee like the breath of the world. My clothes were soaked and bloodstained, making me colder. Occam was behind me, carrying the egg that nearly cost me my life.
We reached the truck with no interruptions, even from the security types. There was a wreath on the front door and dozens of cars up and down the road and parked in the yard. People wearing black walked from the cars to the front door, looking away from us, the way they might if we were homeless, not wanting to engage. Official word had been released that the senator was dead and his wife was still missing and presumed dead. The crows were flocking in.
What a tragedy, assuming the burned-up senator and his shot-up wife and his charred sister-in-law were really dead. But if some of them were shape-shifters, maybe they weren’t dead at all. What if they had each traded off with some dead body and burned it? How did we even find out? DNA, fingerprints, dental records. All had been falsified before, altered, replaced.
Occam opened the passenger door and I climbed in the truck, not too tired to drive, but not wanting to drive anyway. He got in the driver’s seat and I found my keys in a pocket of my jacket, slightly damp and sand encrusted. Occam placed the egg in my lap and started the Chevy. Pea clawed out of the gobag and onto my lap with the egg. I cradled themboth and sent a quick report to HQ before I laid back my head and closed my eyes.
I must have dozed off because suddenly we were back at HQ and my eyelids were stuck together, forcing me to rub them open. I had gotten insufficient sleep for days and the catnap did me good. I chuckled quietly at the thought. Catnap. The movement of my laughter caused a reek of rotten fish to waft into the air. My clothes were ruined. There was no way I could get the stink out of them. “What’s so funny, Nell, sugar?”
“I was attacked by... salamanders? I was saved by a cat. I took a catnap. I smell like rotten fish. I’m growing leaves. I have to laugh or I might cry.”
Occam smiled and opened the door for Pea to scamper out and away. Occam leaned over. Closer. His voice the low rumble of a cat, he said, “I’m gonna kiss your cheek, Nell.”
I held very still. “Even though I stink?”
“My cat likes the way you smell.” He put his nose and mouth against my jaw and rubbed along it. Like a cat. Scent-marking me. There was something that felt... safe in his touch. I burbled a laugh that sounded almost real, almost free. His lips touched my cheek, held for a moment, and then withdrew a fraction of an inch. He was still so close that I could feel his breath on my face as he said, “My cat likes you just as much as I do. Let’s get you inside so you can clip and shower.”
“Occam? You talk about your cat as if it isn’t you. But then so do I. Is that strange?”
He hadn’t moved away, his breath still on my cheek. The leaves in my hairline moved with each exhalation. “It is and it isn’t,” he said. “Cats don’t have brains that work or reason the same as humans. Limited frontal lobes. Greater vision, faster reflexes, quicker aggression instincts. So I’m me and not me when I shift.”
“I thank you both for saving me.”
Occam kissed my cheek again. “Don’t forget that improper kiss I got planned.”
“I don’t think Icanforget that improper kiss. Occam. I ain’t—Ineverhad an improper kiss.”
“Must remedy that. Soonest.”
I shoved the egg at him. Grabbed up my gear bags and got out of the truck. Aware that my color was high and I was overwhelmed with sensations, images, improper thoughts. Occam behind me. I let us into the stairway and climbed to the second floor. And walked alone into the locker room. I stepped fully clothed under scalding water and let the shower wash away the stench and gore and the river water. And my blood. I stripped, then wrung out and bagged my clothing. Then started in on grooming myself. Or landscaping myself.
It wasn’t funny. Not at all. But I was laughing quietly as I started clipping. I used the mindless landscaping tasks to let my brain go free to ponder and ruminate and reason, trying to see how all the unmatching pieces might fit together. They didn’t. Not yet.
