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on a story. He’s stalking me.”

      “Have you called the police?” Xandi poured herself a cup of coffee and sat across from Keisha. “Is Anton coming out?”

      “Anton’s stuck in meetings until Friday…he may even have one Saturday morning. I told him not to come.”

      Xandi snorted. “You mean he listened?”

      “I don’t think he’s got a choice. This deal involves millions of dollars. It’s a huge investment for him. I’ve got a call in to the detective who worked my assault case. I’m hoping he can tell me how to keep Burns away from us.”

      “In the meantime?” Xandi took a sip of her coffee.

      “In the meantime, I need to check on my project, make sure we’re still on schedule. The next couple days are going to be really busy.” She smiled sadly at Xandi. Her amber eyes filled with tears. “Why won’t he stop following me? Why won’t he leave me alone? It doesn’t make any sense.”

      “When was the first time you were aware of him?”

      Keisha frowned. “Not until the article came out in the paper, the story about my assault.”

      “How did he get there so soon? He was at the crime scene really fast. I saw the pictures. There were still bodies in the room.”

      “I don’t know. I was so out of it. I never saw Burns, at least that night. At first I thought the photos were from the police files, but I learned later they weren’t.”

      “Did the police let him in?” Xandi recalled the lurid black and white photo, the torn and mutilated bodies of three men, the superimposed photo of a rabid, snarling wolf covering the picture. “Could he have been there before the police arrived?”

      Keisha slowly raised her head. “I don’t know. I can’t imagine the police letting him take pictures. It was a crime scene, but he had to have been there right after it happened to get those shots. How could he have known?”

      Xandi reached behind Keisha and grabbed the phone. “Call the detective. Now.”

      Early Friday morning, Keisha surveyed the stark stone monument, its sharp edges softened by the gently swaying grasses she’d carefully selected for the design. She’d picked them out of hundreds of other similar plants in the months before her attack, long before she knew Anton, Stefan or Xandi, or anything about the Chanku.

      Now Keisha leaned over and plucked a single golden stem and slipped it between her lips. She straightened up, chewing thoughtfully, to study the finished project.

      She found it absolutely fascinating, realizing her body had known the nutrients she needed to discover her Chanku heritage. Somehow, instinct had led her to choose exactly the right combination of plants for the memorial, had driven her to chew on the woody stems and suck on the slender grasses until her body had responded, until the tiny gland near her brain stem had finally developed enough to let her shift from human to wolf.

      Thank God it happened in time, or she would have been the one who died in that bloody apartment so many months ago.

      The sun chose that moment to break through the morning fog and cast shadows exactly as she’d planned, reflecting a jagged silhouette reminiscent of the Himalayas. Keisha nibbled on the stem of grass and studied the dark line of stone.

      She stared blindly at the monument, but she hardly thought of it, nor did she consider the impact it would have on the people who came to view it for the first time. No, her mind was filled with thoughts of her mother, of her Auntie Camille and her missing cousin and uncle. Of her father, a proud and hardworking gardener who’d taught Keisha to love plants and all growing things.

      Had he been the one who carried the Chanku genes? Most likely not. Anton believed it was recessive in men, but dominant in women. Had her mother shifted? Her Auntie Camille? Or had they gone through their brief lives without knowing their own potential?

      What of her cousin? Tia would be a grown woman now, at least in her mid twenties. Did she carry the Chanku genetics within her DNA? If so, as Keisha had been for most of her life, was Tia unaware of her heritage?

      Keisha started when Xandi slipped an arm around her waist. “It’s a fitting tribute, sweetie. Absolutely gorgeous. I can see why your design won the competition.”

      Xandi’s praise should have filled her with pride. Instead, Keisha was aware of a terrible emptiness. If only her mother could be here…or her father. She put the impossible out of her mind, remembering instead her brief and unproductive conversation with the detective. She’d finally reached him after two days of calls, only to learn there wasn’t anything they could do to stop Carl Burns from following her. Not until the reporter broke the law.

      She sighed. One more thing she’d just as soon not think about. Shoving thoughts of Burns and the San Francisco Police Department aside, Keisha returned Xandi’s hug. “At least the project’s done, under budget and on time. I just wish I could feel more excited about it.”

      “You will. Once everyone shows up for the dedication. Stefan and Anton haven’t seen the finished project. They’re going to be amazed at how gorgeous it turned out. Now let’s clean up around here so it’s perfect for Sunday. Your rake, m’dear?”

      Sighing, Keisha took the rake from Xandi and began clearing away the accumulation of branches and leaves left by the workmen. She missed Anton. She missed Stefan.

      She missed the sense of peace she’d lost the moment Carl Burns came after her again.

      Unbidden, thoughts of her mother and her Auntie Camille crept back into Keisha’s mind once again. Why now, of all times, would she find herself mourning both her mother and her aunt?

      Mourning the dead and wondering about her cousin…where was Tia? Why was the sense of the missing women in her life so strong, here in the midst of Golden Gate Park?

      Hours later, standing in the neatly cleared garden, Keisha still couldn’t find answers to her questions or the sense of achievement she’d hoped to feel.

      She’d won a national landscape design contest, created something lasting and beautiful, yet all she wanted was to get as far away from San Francisco and Carl Burns as possible.

      “Xandi, I think we should go home.” She slanted a look at her friend. “Back to Montana. Let’s skip the dedication and just leave. I have a really bad feeling about…”

      Xandi planted her rake in front of her and shook her head. “No. You’ve worked hard. You deserve recognition for this. Besides, I’m staying alert. I’ve been watching. I don’t think Burns is nearby. One of us would sense him.”

      Keisha shook her head. “What if we don’t? They can’t arrest him because he hasn’t done anything. There’s no record of his stalking me, but I certainly don’t want to give him an opportunity to hurt either of us just so the police will take notice. How do I make him leave me alone? I’m not even certain why he’s following me.” Keisha wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. She’d been feeling so strong, so in control. Feeling like her old self, for the first time since her attack.

      Not now. Now the old fears were seeping into her bones, the insecurities, the lack of confidence…it was all coming back.

      “If he’s been fired from his paper, he probably wants film to prove you exist, that you shift.” Xandi’s eyes continuously swept the park as she spoke. “He wants his job back and figures you’re the key. We just won’t give him the opportunity.”

      Keisha sighed, staring blankly at the memorial garden she’d worked so hard to create. “Do you miss it as much as I do? Shifting? Last night I practically lost it. I stood at the window in the middle of the night, tired from working out here all day, yet wanting so badly to shift and run…but I didn’t dare.”

      Xandi leaned close and gave her a tight hug. “Two more days. You can make it. Anton and Stefan will be here tomorrow, the dedication is Sunday morning, and our flight


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