Chapter 40

40

T he only fly in the ointment of a perfect, blue-skied Labor Day was that Logan was still a horse, and no one had any idea how to turn him back.

Juliette's secret agency reported that they had captured Clancy, though they were vague about what they intended to do with him. They hadn't given up the hunt for the branding iron that Logan had left in the ditch in some vague hope that they could reverse-engineer what had happened to him, but Logan could tell that they weren't very optimistic about the prospect, and they had no other ideas for turning him back into a human.

Tabby and Franzi both swore that they liked him just as well as a horse, but Logan knew that he was a burden, and he despaired of ever being able to tuck Franzi into bed or pick her up when she fell. He couldn't drive her to day care, or go to his job and earn even a token paycheck. He couldn't even hang around the barn too obviously with Tabby, since he was still keeping a low profile as a horse and maintaining the fiction that he'd been sold.

And he couldn't make love to Tabby .

He missed the way his body felt with hers, limbs and skin together. She still kissed him, but it was a woman kissing her favorite horse. Tabby had him take horses out for exercise, using a long lead to guide them along the trails, but it felt like made-up work and Logan knew she was humoring his need to be useful.

Riding with her was both wonderful and deeply frustrating, especially when Tabby went bareback. She was so close...and so painfully far away. Logan was desperate to tell her all the feelings he was ready to admit, and had no way to do it or show it.

If it weren't for the companion in his head, Logan thought he'd have gone quietly mad.

Well, one of us has to have common sense , his stallion sniffed. Stop wallowing in self-pity and enjoy the sunshine.

"Is Tara here? Is Tara here?" Franzi was standing up on the bottom porch railing like she'd be able to see around the curve in the driveway if she was six inches taller.

"Her mom texted to let me know they were running a little late and that Dr. Becket was going to bring her," Tabby said patiently.

"Is the gate open? Can they get in?" Franzi wanted to know.

"I told them the combination," Tabby assured her.

The playset had been sanded and given a fresh coat of paint the day before, and it gleamed in the sun. Logan was doing the only gardening he really could nearby, munching chickweed carefully from around the vegetables.

He pricked his ears up suddenly just as Franzi shrieked, "They're here!" She jumped back off the porch railing so enthusiastically she ended up on her butt and bounced up without complaining. "Tara!"

"Don't run out in the driveway!" Tabby cautioned. Logan heard the vehicle down the drive come forward and then pause as they must be closing the gate. That would be points in their favor with Tabby.

Franzi stood at the bottom of the porch, bouncing in place.

Logan melted back around the side of the house, then returned as Vivian's familiar car came into view.

A dark-haired man in scrubs got out of the driver's seat and extricated Tara, who hid behind him briefly as Tabby came forward to say hello. Franzi dashed forward and dragged Tara with her to the playset. "We're going to make TEA," she said commandingly. "You can make MUD!"

Logan lingered by the garden. As a man, he'd go forward and make conversation with Becket, commiserate about kids, and put his hand in Tabby's back pocket or around her waist to make sure that his claim on her was obvious.

But as a horse?

Should he butt in? Stay back? He was just livestock now, and maybe forever.

And you accuse me of being dramatic , his stallion huffed. Go to him. Now.

Logan noticed the little tingle of instinct just as his stallion spoke, and he sighed and walked forward.

"You must be Logan."

Logan gave a fancy half bow, folding one knee and arching his neck.

A little ostentatious, Logan's stallion sniffed.

You're always doing that kind of crap!

I do it better.

"Can I get you something to drink before you go?" Tabby offered.

But Becket was looking at Logan with his face a little scrunched up in confusion. "There's something wrong with you."

You think?

Logan's stallion was outraged. There is nothing wrong with me. I am perfect.

It took Logan a moment to identify the feeling rising up in his throat as hope. No, but there's something wrong with me. You said so yourself.

Oh. Yes, I suppose you are right. As long as we all realize there is nothing wrong with me.

"I heard about your predicament," Becket said, stretching out his hand but not offering to touch Logan until Logan stepped into it. "I wonder if I couldn't…help you fix it."

Tabby made a little not-daring-to-hope noise that Logan recognized from his own chest. "We've tried everything we could think of," she said softly. "What do you think you could do?"

Becket looked appraisingly at Tabby, frowning. "I'm not an ordinary shifter."

We're not an ordinary shifter, either, Logan's stallion snorted, not impressed by Becket's statement.

"I know that Tara is a kirin," Tabby said cautiously.

"Tara's not my daughter by blood," Becket said just as carefully. "But I'm a unicorn, too."

"I'm not sure what that means," Tabby admitted.

"I might be able to heal him. Magically."

Tabby sucked her breath in, and for a moment, the only sounds were the hum of the flies and Franzi's shrill directions to Tara in stirring mud for pies.

"That would be amazing," Tabby said, sounding choked. "What would I have to do?"

Becket licked his lips and returned his gaze to Logan, stroking his neck the way no one could help doing .

We are very strokable.

Becket walked down the length of Logan and peered at the brand on his flank before turning back to Tabby. "I'm going to shift, because it's a little easier for me, and I won't be able to speak while I work. You don't need to do anything but keep him still."

As if I was merely a farm animal ! Logan's horse snorted.

Tabby nodded and went around the other side of Logan, keeping a hand on his nose.

Becket stepped back from Logan. "It won't look like anything is happening," he said, "but it's best if you don't disturb me." He glanced at the children, who were very happily engaged in their play.

Then he shivered in place, and was a unicorn.

He wasn't the same iridescent brown as Tara's Chinese unicorn, and he didn't have her scales, mane, or tiny antlers. He was a couple of hands shorter than Logan, but of the same general horse shape and grace. He was also pure white and had a pearly horn jutting from his forehead.

Totally over the top, Logan's stallion said with a mental eye roll, but Logan could tell he was jealous.

You're special, too, Logan assured him. There's no one else in the world like you.

The horse still pouted, but then Becket stepped forward and laid his gleaming horn on Logan's haunch where the brand marred his hide.

Becket's magic was not particularly comfortable as it flowed from the point of his horn.

It felt, for a moment, like Logan's skin was being turned inside out, or like he was getting an electric shock. It didn't hurt, exactly, but it was definitely unsettling. Tabby's hand on his head was like an anchor, and he had a moment of wondering if she felt it, too, like an electric current that went right through them.

Logan was aware of the scarred flesh burning away with a flash of discomfort into a new wound before it closed, sealing over where the brand had been with clean, undamaged hide. Even the hair grew back, prickling in its intensity.

Becket stepped back and shifted seamlessly into a man. "Did it work?"

For a moment, Logan was sure it hadn't. He was never going to be a person again. He didn't remember how. Then he went to bow his head in defeat, and his hat fell off at his feet.

He was back in his own skin, on his own legs, in clothing and boots, and tears of confusion and relief were tracing his cheeks.

"Logan!"

Tabby crashed into him and Logan finally had arms again to hold her close, and lips to kiss her, and that was all he could do for several minutes until Becket was backing away in embarrassment.

"I can, ah, just go say goodbye to Tara…"

Logan let Tabby go to arm's length and thrust a hand at Becket. "Thank you," he said gruffly, and it was so strange and wonderful to be able to speak that he said it again, "Thank you!" and then repeated it until the words had no meaning, continuing to shake Becket's hand until the poor man took it forcibly back.

"It's fine," Becket insisted, though he looked a little winded. "I'm happy I could help."

"Franzi!" Logan said, and it was the only thing that could have made him let go of Tabby as he dashed around the corner of the house to where the girls were still playing. "Franzi! "

Franzi, completely unfazed by his transformation, only waved. "I'm making tea, Uncle Logan! Come drink some!" All of her plastic dishes were spread out in the little play set, and Tara was putting mud food on little plates. Neither of them seemed to recognize that anything out of the ordinary had happened.

Franzi gave a little squeak of protest when Logan waded into their play to pick her up and crush her close. "You're winkling my dress, Uncle Logan," she chided. But she hugged back, her precious little arms tight around Logan's neck. "I missed you, too," she said solemnly. "Your tea is hot. Blow on it!"

Logan was deliriously happy to blow on his puddle-water tea and pretend to drink it, marveling on how his fingers worked and how balance worked on just two legs. He felt very small, powerless, and incredibly dextrous.

"I can't thank you enough," Tabby was saying, shaking Becket's hand almost as earnestly as Logan had. "Knowing that it had something to do with the brand didn't mean we could do anything about it."

"I'm just really glad it worked," Becket said kindly.

"Do you want to come in for some iced tea?" Tabby offered.

Logan literally salivated. Iced tea. Real food.

What's wrong with hay? his stallion wanted to know. Nothing is better than alfalfa.

Logan remembered again that he could speak out loud, but for the life of him, he couldn't think of a thing to say.