guess…”
“Well, these are Shifters. Shape-shifters. They change body shape whenever they want and retain their full intelligence while in that form. And you have to be born a Shifter. Won’t turn into one if you’re bitten.”
“Doc, if you could just hear what you’re saying! It’s insane!”
Doc pointed at the bed. The leopard was back, writhing in pain where it lay.
“Think that’s a hallucination?”
Sierra wished it were. She watched bemusedly as the cat turned back into Ian.
“I think my brain’s shorted out.”
“They don’t hurt anyone,” Doc said. “Never have. Just want to live their lives. From what I understand, they were driven into this world from another. Not all in a bunch. In ones and twos over thousands of years. Stayed under the radar with their heads down, multiplied a bit, but not all that much, keeping their numbers low on purpose. They may not be fully human, but they’re not a danger, Sierra. Never have been. You gonna tell?”
She looked at the man lying on the bed. That was Ian. Ian whom she’d known for the last ten years. Ian whom she both hated with a passion and desired. Ian who had teased her and annoyed her and been the bane of her life. But Ian the individual who had never harmed her or anybody else that she knew of. Not some unknown monster. A person.
“I won’t tell,” she said.
“That’s my girl,” said Doc with profound relief. “Knew I could count on you. You’ve always been level-headed, Sierra.”
“It’ll…take some getting used to.”
Doc laughed a little. “Oh, yeah. Move back out of the doorway for a moment. I have to get something out of the pickup and I don’t want to leave you here alone with him.”
Sierra realized she was still sitting on the floor. She flushed and scrambled hastily to her feet. Doc came out of the guest room and shut the door behind him.
“Don’t go in there without me. I’ll only be a minute.”
Sierra leaned against the wall and tried to get her whirling thoughts together. Doc came back at last carrying two pairs of metal manacles, each connected by a short length of heavy chain. She stared at them in horror.
“Do you have to put those on him?”
“Yes. I have to stitch him up and I don’t think the cat will take to that. I was hoping the fever wouldn’t have got to him yet. Not until I could get him home to my place and into restraints. But from the looks of things he’s been hurt more than a few hours and the fever’s taking over already. He’s going to shift back and forth a lot.”
He was snapping the shackles onto Ian’s wrists and ankles as he talked. Sierra looked at them in distaste. It seemed so wrong to be putting those ugly things on Ian.
“If he were in his right mind, I wouldn’t have to do it,” Doc explained. “Even as a cat, the human intelligence is there and would let me stitch him. But he’s out of his head right now and tranquilizers aren’t very dependable on Shifters. Their metabolism reacts unpredictably to sedatives. He could come to as a cat and take my throat out without ever meaning to.”
He injected Ian with a local, swabbed the gashes, then started to stitch them. Ian shifted into leopard, but Doc just kept stitching and after a few minutes he shifted back to human again. Sierra was starting to get used to it.
“Those gashes are claw marks. Did one of his own kind do this to him?”
“Shifter business,” said Doc evasively. “Some sort of upheaval in their community right now. Ask him once he’s healed.”
He set the last stitch in place, gave Ian a couple of different injections, then stepped back. Sierra looked at him in surprise.
“Right,” he said. “I’m going to need your help getting him into the pickup.”
“But…what about his ribs?” she asked in dismay.
“Can’t put a cast on ribs, even with humans. They have to move for a person to breathe. Can’t even wrap them to prevent him from breathing too deeply and perhaps puncturing a
“Well, these are Shifters. Shape-shifters. They change body shape whenever they want and retain their full intelligence while in that form. And you have to be born a Shifter. Won’t turn into one if you’re bitten.”
“Doc, if you could just hear what you’re saying! It’s insane!”
Doc pointed at the bed. The leopard was back, writhing in pain where it lay.
“Think that’s a hallucination?”
Sierra wished it were. She watched bemusedly as the cat turned back into Ian.
“I think my brain’s shorted out.”
“They don’t hurt anyone,” Doc said. “Never have. Just want to live their lives. From what I understand, they were driven into this world from another. Not all in a bunch. In ones and twos over thousands of years. Stayed under the radar with their heads down, multiplied a bit, but not all that much, keeping their numbers low on purpose. They may not be fully human, but they’re not a danger, Sierra. Never have been. You gonna tell?”
She looked at the man lying on the bed. That was Ian. Ian whom she’d known for the last ten years. Ian whom she both hated with a passion and desired. Ian who had teased her and annoyed her and been the bane of her life. But Ian the individual who had never harmed her or anybody else that she knew of. Not some unknown monster. A person.
“I won’t tell,” she said.
“That’s my girl,” said Doc with profound relief. “Knew I could count on you. You’ve always been level-headed, Sierra.”
“It’ll…take some getting used to.”
Doc laughed a little. “Oh, yeah. Move back out of the doorway for a moment. I have to get something out of the pickup and I don’t want to leave you here alone with him.”
Sierra realized she was still sitting on the floor. She flushed and scrambled hastily to her feet. Doc came out of the guest room and shut the door behind him.
“Don’t go in there without me. I’ll only be a minute.”
Sierra leaned against the wall and tried to get her whirling thoughts together. Doc came back at last carrying two pairs of metal manacles, each connected by a short length of heavy chain. She stared at them in horror.
“Do you have to put those on him?”
“Yes. I have to stitch him up and I don’t think the cat will take to that. I was hoping the fever wouldn’t have got to him yet. Not until I could get him home to my place and into restraints. But from the looks of things he’s been hurt more than a few hours and the fever’s taking over already. He’s going to shift back and forth a lot.”
He was snapping the shackles onto Ian’s wrists and ankles as he talked. Sierra looked at them in distaste. It seemed so wrong to be putting those ugly things on Ian.
“If he were in his right mind, I wouldn’t have to do it,” Doc explained. “Even as a cat, the human intelligence is there and would let me stitch him. But he’s out of his head right now and tranquilizers aren’t very dependable on Shifters. Their metabolism reacts unpredictably to sedatives. He could come to as a cat and take my throat out without ever meaning to.”
He injected Ian with a local, swabbed the gashes, then started to stitch them. Ian shifted into leopard, but Doc just kept stitching and after a few minutes he shifted back to human again. Sierra was starting to get used to it.
“Those gashes are claw marks. Did one of his own kind do this to him?”
“Shifter business,” said Doc evasively. “Some sort of upheaval in their community right now. Ask him once he’s healed.”
He set the last stitch in place, gave Ian a couple of different injections, then stepped back. Sierra looked at him in surprise.
“Right,” he said. “I’m going to need your help getting him into the pickup.”
“But…what about his ribs?” she asked in dismay.
“Can’t put a cast on ribs, even with humans. They have to move for a person to breathe. Can’t even wrap them to prevent him from breathing too deeply and perhaps puncturing a
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