Page 16 of Shadow Boxed (Shadow Warriors #2)

Muriel glanced at O’Neill. She couldn’t tell from the neutrality in his voice whether that news pissed him off. Not that it mattered. She’d done what she’d had to do.

“Nobody knew where you’d gone. I tried to find you myself, but you’d just…

vanished. So, I hired someone with experience in tracking people down.

” She paused, before adding quietly. “Daniel and Gracie deserved to know their father and you deserved to know you were a father.” Another pause, followed by a sigh.

“But even the expert couldn’t find you. Samuel never told me you were at Shadow Mountain. ”

O’Neill’s face was perfectly still as he digested that. He finally stirred and scrubbed his palms down his face. “I only came to Shadow Mountain a year ago. Benioko tracked me down and insisted I join him on base.”

Muriel waited for him to continue, to explain where he’d disappeared after high school. But he turned back into silence and stone, so she refocused on her daughter.

“Why didn’t you tell me after you found out? I would have told you everything.”

Gracie shrugged and looked away. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

There was more to her daughter’s silence than that, Muriel was certain of it. But she was equally certain Gracie wouldn’t share the real reasons, at least not yet. Not here.

“Did Daniel know about me?” O’Neill asked quietly, but something flickered across his face. Something that looked like pain. Or regret.

“I don’t think so,” Gracie said. “I never told him.”

The percolating had stopped. Muriel got up and grabbed the coffee carafe, filling everyone’s cups, then opened the fridge to grab a carton of milk. She put the milk, along with a bowl of sugar, in the middle of the table, within easy reach of everyone.

Gracie pulled her cup closer, but instead of filling it with cream and sugar as she normally did, she rolled the cup between her hands, staring down into the rising steam. “I asked about you on the Brenahiilo. Many still remember you. They remember your lion claiming.”

O’Neill grimaced. “I bet.”

“Were you?” Looking up, Gracie leaned forward, her focus locked on her father. “Claimed by the lion clan, I mean. Nobody on the Brenahiilo believes that you were. But…were you?”

His shoulders and spine stiffened, but his face remained flat, his voice even flatter. “Does it matter?”

“Yes.” Gracie lifted her eyes, which were glowing like his. “It matters to me.” She paused before continuing. “And I’ll believe you.”

O’Neill shifted in his chair, staring back at her. He shrugged, as though it didn’t matter. “Yeah. It was true. Everything I told them was true. Not that anyone believed me.”

Muriel shifted in her chair. “It’s just that nobody had been claimed by the lion in centuries. And he refused to show proof of the claiming.” Her voice rose beneath a surge of defensiveness.

Gracie’s face soured. “He shouldn’t have to prove his claiming. Nobody had before. Did Samuel? Did Daniel? Did Wolf?”

“No...of course not…” Muriel floundered.

She was afraid to look at O’Neill. Afraid of what she might see on his face.

“It just wasn’t normal. He was eighteen, way past puberty.

And the lion clan? Nobody had been claimed by the heschrmal since the old days.

Nobody even remembered their gifts. Why claim someone now?

Why him?” Muriel sucked in a shaky breath as her last question hit the air.

She flinched as the flatness of his face turned to stone.

“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I didn’t mean that you were unworthy.

” Her gaze skated over O’Neill’s stony face and away again. “It’s just that the timing felt wrong.”

“So, you branded him a liar and drove him away,” Gracie said, animosity ringing in her voice.

“I never said I didn’t believe him.” Muriel protested, which was true. She’d never said it, but she’d thought it.

“But you never said you did, either, did you?” Gracie’s tone chilled.

Was this why Gracie had never told her she knew who her father was? Did she blame Muriel for driving him away?

“You can’t blame your mother for not believing me. Nobody believed me.” And she didn’t drive me away,” O’Neill broke in. “I left because I had to make my own path in the world, and I couldn’t do that on the Brenahiilo.”

Gracie didn’t look like she believed him, but then neither did Muriel. Even now, twenty years later, she still remembered the betrayal in his eyes when she hadn’t stepped forward to support him.

She still had trouble believing his lion claiming. Yet Gracie did. Her daughter was certain his woodlands spirit claiming was true. She’d believed him before she’d even met him.

Why?

“How did the heschrmal claim you?” Gracie asked.

But the question didn’t feel like she was doubting him. Nor did it sound like curiosity. Instead, there appeared to be purpose behind the question. Muriel’s forehead knitted. There was something Gracie wasn’t telling them.

O’Neill was silent for so long, Muriel didn’t think he was going to answer. Gracie’s expression dived straight into awkwardness.

“With teeth and claws,” O’Neill finally revealed. He shifted in his chair and cocked his head, his gaze steady on Gracie’s face. “It came to me in the middle of the night, curling up on top of me and rubbing against my face and shoulders like a damn house cat.”

Gracie leaned across the table. “Were you scared?”

“No. I knew what it was the instant I saw its eyes. They were glowing.”

With a slow nod, Gracie leaned back. “Like yours.”

“Like mine now,” O’Neill corrected. “The glow in my eyes didn’t start until after the claiming.”

Frowning, Muriel thought back and realized he was right. That emerald glow was new. He hadn’t had it back in high school.

“So, it bit and clawed you?” Gracie’s voice dropped to a whisper.

O’Neill stared at her for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. “It did.”

“Both?” Gracie asked, her voice tight. “Teeth and claws?

Muriel’s eyebrows flew up. How odd. She’d never heard of a woodland spirit claiming by claws and teeth. Samuel’s and Wolf’s hadn’t, neither had Daniel’s. But they’d been claimed by woodland birds. Perhaps cats claimed differently.

“Yeah. It bit over my shoulder. And clawed down my arm. Hurt like hell and left a scar.”

Gracie was already nodding. “Can I see the scars?”

A frown gathering, Muriel leaned back in her chair. What was Gracie after? Proof that her father had been claimed? But she’s already said she believed him and didn’t need proof.

He studied her face for a moment, as if wondering the same thing. But then he pushed back his chair and stood. Grabbing the hem of his shirt, he pulled it up and over his head.

Muriel’s eyes widened as his lean chest and six pack abs came into view. He’d filled out very...nicely...since high school. For the first time in endless cycles, sensual heat stirred. But then, the first scar carved into his flesh caught her eyes. Then another and another. The heat dwindled.

Good Goddess...

The man was a walking road map of physical damage. What in Hee-nes-ce had he been up to since leaving the Brenahiilo?

Amid the bronze skin and corded muscles of his right shoulder were two scars.

Punctures, they looked like. Fangs. They were neatly spaced apart, each quite large with a slight curve.

And if that wasn’t proof enough that he’d been bitten.

.. Her gaze drifted to the right. On his bicep, above the tattoo of a snarling mountain lion, were four ragged furrows.

They started at the top of his shoulder and disappeared beneath the lion’s head.

And Goddess help her, they sure looked like claws marks.

But other scars peppered his torso and arms, too.

A multitude of scars. Round, puckered scars that looked like bullet holes peppered his body.

There was a cluster of three, below his last rib on the left, and then single ones high on his left shoulder, and another next to his right hip bone.

A longer, withered scar carved one of his abs.

Another wrapped around his waist. She was almost certain those two had come from knife wounds.

By the light of the Blue Moon Mother...what had the man been doing since he’d left the Brenahiilo ? She’d stroked every inch of his firm, smooth, eighteen-year-old torso during that heady night. None of these scars had been present back then.

None of them.

Her gaze returned to his shoulder and bicep, lingering on the bite and claw marks. When had the cat claimed him? It must have been between their night and the next morning when he’d announced the spirit claiming during their final day of high school.

Gracie’s chair shrieked as she shoved it back and stood. Without saying a word, she circled the table, leaning in for a closer look. “How long did it take the claiming wounds to heal?”

Muriel’s confusion deepened. Her daughter was so fixated on the bite and claw marks; she hadn’t even noticed the other scars.

O’Neill cocked his head, his gaze narrow and intense as he stared back.

“Two weeks...give or take. About the same time as it would take to heal from the bite and claws of a waking world animal, I guess.” He pulled his shirt back over his head and tugged it down.

Suddenly, he leaned toward Gracie and sniffed.

“I can smell it on. Your woodlands spirit animal. When did it claim you?”

Gracie’s breath caught. Her neck bent until her face fell into shadows.

“You can?” Her voice was almost inaudible.

“I can. I smelled it as soon as you opened the door. I thought it was a secondary scent. A pet...or something. But it’s not...is it?”

“No.” Gracie’s voice started out subdued, but quickened. She peeked up at O’Neill through the shield of her bangs. “I can smell the heschrmal on you too, and I know what it is...even though I’ve never smelled one before. Is that...knowing...is it part of the great mother’s gift?”

“It is—” Before O’Neill could continue, Muriel’s shrill voice landed.

“What?” Muriel’s voice was close to a shriek. Their conversation had only just registered. She must have misunderstood. Please, Moon Mother, let it be a misunderstanding. “Gracie is heschrmal claimed?”

“No.” O’Neill’s voice caught. “She is Ho'cee clan.”

“ What!? She’s a wolf?” Muriel’s protest was even shriller...even louder. “No! That’s not possible! How can you possibly know that?”

O’Neill pulled back and sat again. His glance toward Muriel held sympathy, but his face remained neutral.

“Those chosen by predators carry the gift of scenting. We can smell and identify other hunters. It’s instinctual.

I smelled the Ho'cee on her the instant she opened the door. She is wolf clan.” He turned back to Gracie, studying her.

“Why did you ask about the heschrmal claiming?

Gracie fidgeted with the hem of her bulky sweater, then suddenly lifted her hands, maneuvering the neckline aside until a thick, white bandage became visible. “Because I was bit too, and I don’t think it’s healing.”

Muriel was still processing the first revelation when the second bomb dropped.

“Bit?” Muriel shot up from her chair so fast, it toppled over. “Let me see!”

Muriel reached Gracie without even realizing she’d moved and reached for the hem of her daughter’s cheerfully checkered sweater. Her efforts to pull it off were countered by the arms Gracie clamped around her abdomen.

“Seriously mom? You’re going to strip me right here? In front of him?” Her voice sharpened with sarcasm. “Pretty sure my new dad doesn’t want to see my boobs.”

The sarcastic tone, which Gracie rarely, used jolted Muriel back to her senses. She dropped her hands and backed off. “What bit you, Gracie?”

Her daughter hesitated, before reluctantly admitting. “A wolf.”

Muriel’s heart dropped into her belly and iced over. Was this a spiritual event, or had O’Neill smelled a wolf on Gracie because a wild one had bitten her? “We need to get you to the hospital.”

She tried to think through the fear and shock. Her daughter was hurt. She’d already lost one child. She was not going to lose her daughter too.

“A hospital won’t help.” O’Neill’s quiet voice broke through Muriel’s panic. “The bite was not from the waking world. It was from the Tabenetha... a spirit Ho'cee. Is this not so, Gracie?”

Gracie nodded, her gaze shifting from O’Neill’s calm face to Muriel’s terrified one.

“That’s not possible.” Muriel’s denial was strangled. “It can’t be. The Ho'cee is a Shadow Warrior spirit, a warrior gift. Never, in the history of the Hee'woo'nee, has a warrior clan been gifted to a female. This claiming must be a mistake.”

O’Neill shook his head, his gaze returning to their daughter. “I do not claim to understand the elder gods’ choices, but they do not make mistakes. There must be purpose behind Gracie’s Ho'cee claiming.”