Chapter Six
Locus
The scent of grilled meat woke me from the first deep, peaceful sleep I’d had. The medicine probably helped, but it was more the stilling of my mind. The lack of a need to sleep. I hadn’t slept on a bed in a long, long time. Had been fairly sure I’d never be able to do that again, in fact. I lay curled on a mound of soft blankets and even softer flannel sheets surrounded by the scent of soap and water. And lemon furniture polish. And fabric softener. The scent of clean was the sexiest thing I’d smelled since I could remember.
My leg still hurt, but the pain pills must be still working because the faint ache didn’t take up much of my mind. The rest of it was focused on the vet who had not only realized I wasn’t just an injured animal, but brought me to his home and let me rest in his own bed. I wanted to thank him, to tell him his kindness brought my humanity back into being. Or at least the awareness of it lurking there inside me, wanting out.
Standing, weight on three legs only, I shook myself, wincing at the pain the act brought but reveling in my fluffy cleanness. Maybe if I gave it my full concentration, I could shift back. I squeezed my eyes closed and sought the spark of humanity, reached for it, and tugged. It didn’t move. I yanked harder, my heart rate speeding up, breathing short...but it didn’t move. Was it possible I could be a fox forever? Until this moment, I actually hadn’t cared.
But, now, I cared very much. Suddenly, I was begging my fox to let go, pleading with the universe and any deity who might be listening to help me to change back to my human. I’d started on my trek to find my family in fox form, swearing I’d stay that way until I found them, and I had, or I thought I had found at least the place they’d been taken.
But what had I thought I could do for them at that point as a fox? I realized now that in my grief and anger and outright fear, I’d shoved aside some of the best tools at my disposal. Sure, my little furry self had the ability to get in places where my human self could not, but as a fox, I had no...no thumbs! Having identified the location, I should have snuck in closer and, as soon as I saw an opening, shifted and tried all the doors, maybe gone to town and tried to find someone to help me.
I’d begun to think not just as an animal, but as a feral one. The solutions a person would use for such a situation were not even in my wheelhouse. What had my delays cost my family? Were any of them alive? I hadn’t actually seen them…
And in my heart, I knew they weren’t at the compound anymore.
My throat swelled at the thought they might never be back.
I’d found my alpha. I had no doubt of that, but how could I start my own life, how could I be happy when all of my other loved ones were still at the mercy of the reds?
Of course, I couldn’t mate with Dr. Felix, anyway, unless I managed to find a way to shift. Both halves of the shifter must connect, must be able to communicate, for the bond to be completed.
What a colossal mess. As my thoughts became clearer than they had been in a long time, my frustration level soared. I tried again to shift, then again, panic bubbling through my veins with each attempt.
Finally, my whines became one more thing I had no control over. The piercing cry rang out, over and over, my humanity sinking back again while the animal half reacted to my fear and despair. The fight-or-flight instinct that had been my world for so long taking over again. An open window at the head of the bed became my sole focus, but it was so high. With my broken leg, I wasn’t sure I could make the jump, but I had to.
I was unfit for the comfort and peace a mate would bring. Unfit to live in a home like a person when that part of me was about to flicker out. The slightest wind would extinguish it and make me only animal. My fox was torn, shrieking for its mate while gathering itself to jump, to run back into the forest and haunt the place holding the last clues to what happened to my family.
Pausing, I fought back the grief swamping me at the thought of leaving. But I had to leave. I was not fit to be anyone’s mate.
Keep saying that, and maybe you’ll believe it. I froze, stunned. This was the first time my fox had a distinctive voice since I could remember. I’d “been” the fox, and I suddenly realized I had been in animal form and acting like an animal, but not entirely guided by my actual fox. I’d about given up on your figuring that out. I’m not an animal...at least not the kind you’re thinking of. A mindless creature of the forest. If I’d actually been in charge, you’d never have ended up covered with ticks and fleas, ratty and matted, and half-starved. It was all I could do to keep us alive.
Oh my God. What are you saying? One last attempt to ignore what I should have understood all along. I was so low, I was lucky my fox hadn’t packed up and left. Could they do that? I wasn’t sure...but who could blame him? I’m sorry. I do know what you’re saying, and I swear I’ll make it up to you. But first we have to get out of here. Go to ground and figure things out.
Thinking like an animal again. Such disgust in his tone, I was shamed.
What do you want me to do then? My foot was really hurting now, tension making it worse.
If you’ll excuse the expression, be a man. Be grateful to your mate for stepping into our life before you managed to destroy it completely.
Another whine escaped, the guilt I felt toward those I loved for failing them extending to my fox. And my mate because how could I stay? Be a man? I didn’t remember how to be a man. Apparently I hadn’t even been a fox, at least not the kind my dad raised me to be. Sinking back onto my haunches, I bent my bad leg, and my whines became a scream.
The pounding of footsteps came from the hallway. “Rogue, what happened? Is it your leg?” He lifted me into his strong arms and cradled me against his steely chest, hurt leg away from his body. He supported me with one hand and with the other checked over my bandaged leg. “I think you’re okay. And you sure sound better.”
My scream had faded under his touch to an almost purr. I knew that sound, too. It was my fox’s happiest vocalization.
Ours. Mate.
We still can’t be with him. We can’t even shift back. Can’t I be enough for you?
The silence that met my suggestion let me know my fox’s opinion.
“Rogue, I wish you could tell me what happened. You were still on the bed, so you didn’t fall off. Did you have a bad dream?”
I’d never wanted anything more than to be able to talk to him. To tell him everything about myself and to ask if he recognized me, too… It did always work that way, didn’t it? Shifters knew their mates.
Dr. Felix turned and headed for the door, ruffling my fur with the hand he’d used to check my injury. “I kept the steaks warm for us, so let’s eat and then I want to talk to you about something. Am I right that you’re having trouble shifting back?”
I yipped.
“I think that’s a yes. So, it’s not common knowledge, but I have a special ability, a gift, that helps me with my more difficult cases. I recognize that you’re not like my other patients, but if you’re willing, I might be able to get into your mind and find what’s blocking you. And if not, maybe the witch can.”
His friend was a witch? That sounded frightening, but I breathed in his clean, clean scent. Did I dare to hope? At least I would have something to eat and continue to strengthen before trying again. Determination built. I couldn’t help anyone including myself until I got past my own “wall.”
So, dammit, I’d go over, under, around, or through it. But I was going to shift tonight. And greet my mate properly. Maybe he would have some ideas of how I could help my family because I’d never be able to be completely happy until I did.
Although, being wrapped in the arms of Dr. Felix was as close to joy as I could remember being.
“It’ll be okay, Rogue. We’ll make sure of it.”
I wanted to believe him so badly!