Kiera’s mouth fell open. The Vorn had to weigh close to two tons–if not more. It was built like a buffalo crossed with a nightmare and now that it was sedated, it was nothing but dead weight made of muscle and teeth.
Buck hauled it across the grass as though it was inconvenient but not truly difficult. She could see his muscles working, but he didn’t seem to be breathing hard as he towed the gigantic beast across the field.
Wow, Kiera thought faintly.
She picked up the stun—gun and hurried after him, half afraid he might somehow vanish if she took her eyes off him for too long.
Buck never faltered or stopped for a break. He dragged the Vorn all the way back to its enclosure and flung the creature inside with a final, efficient heave that made the ground shake faintly. Then he stepped back and looked at Kiera.
“It’s done–better secure the fence before it wakes up again,” he rumbled.
“Huh? Oh, right! Of course.” Kiera made herself stop staring at him and hurried to the control post to check the perimeter nodes. The barrier shimmered strong and steady now–the energy grid humming with its usual pale blue light.
She boosted the field strength another notch just to be safe and then turned to one of the nearby work—bots—a silver, bipedal unit with broad utility arms and a placidly expressionless faceplate.
“You,” she said sharply, pointing. “Stay right here by these controls. If anyone—anybody at all—comes near this enclosure or any of the others, you alert me immediately. Understood?”
The work—bot’s faceplate flashed green.
“Understood. Will alert at once,” it said in an emotionless voice.
“Good.” Kiera took a breath. Then she looked back at Buck. “Come on.”
He was standing there waiting for her with that same strange expression—part hope, part worry, part something she couldn’t quite read. Now that the immediate crisis was over, the adrenaline was beginning to ebb from her system, leaving her shaky all over. But beneath the shakiness was something else–curiosity.
She had about a hundred questions. Because this was Buck–her Buck.
The same being who had slept curled around her and listened to her talk and herded runaway theebles and looked at her with those strangely human eyes as if she were the center of his world.
Only now he was standing in front of her in humanoid form, huge and naked and real. It was hard to wrap her head around.
“Come on,” she said again, more softly this time.
Then she turned and led him back toward the home-dome, her heart still pounding and her mind still racing. Behind her she could hear the quiet tread of his bare feet in the grass.
Inside the dome, the silver door sealed behind them with a soft, final whoosh.
Kiera looked at him.
He looked back at her.
And suddenly the small, curved room felt much too warm.
They had a lot to talk about.
19
BRUX
Brux still couldn’t quite believe he had finally been able to shift.
Even as he followed Kiera into the home-dome—ducking his head automatically beneath the curved arch of the entryway though there was, in fact, plenty of room—some part of him was waiting for the change to unravel. Waiting for his spine to bow and his hands to become paws again and his words to dissolve back into whines and barks and frustrated growls.
But no. He was still upright. Still on two legs. Still seeing the world from the height and angle of his humanoid form.
It felt…good. More than good, really–it felt right.
His body felt powerful and familiar in ways it hadn’t in so long he had nearly forgotten them. He had hands again—real hands, not paws—with fingers that could flex and curl and grip. He could feel the smooth floor of the home-dome under the soles of his feet. Could feel the air of the room on his skin and the weight of his hair brushing his shoulders. His hearing was still sharp, his nose still keen, but everything was balanced now—reason and instinct standing side by side instead of instinct drowning everything else.
