Weathering Rock

by Mae Clair

  “God, help me!” Thick hair sprouted from his body, the stink of animal fur overpowering. His jaw came unhinged, elongating beneath the jutting thrust of fangs. His muscles cramped, painfully reshaping themselves like malleable clay.

  Caleb threw his head back and screamed. The sound bounced off the walls, echoing in his ears, mocking his torment. The curse of the werewolf claimed him, and he surrendered to the mind and desires of a predatory animal.

  * * * *

  “Caleb.”

  Somebody jostled his shoulder.

  He groaned and tried to tuck into a ball.

  “Caleb.” The voice was persistent, the hand on his shoulder firm.

  He cracked his eyes to find his nephew bending over him. Wyn’s face was pale, his features creased with deeply-etched lines of worry.

  “It’s morning, Caleb. No more full moon for another twenty-nine days. Here.” He held out a blue robe. “Put this on. I have some water for you.”

  “I–” He couldn’t get anything further past his lips, his mouth dry, soiled by blood. Somewhere during the night he must have bitten his tongue. Dazed, he glanced around the room needing to assure himself there was no evidence of destruction. Bruises and scrapes he could live with, but harming someone else was unthinkable.

  Wyn helped hold a plastic water bottle steady while he took a greedy swallow, the splash of cold liquid against his parched throat pure heaven. Another night had passed, the full moon claiming his soul. And still the barrier of steel, silver and limestone had held. Shakily, he latched onto his nephew’s forearm. “Winston–”

  “It’s over. Let me help you upstairs.”

  Too weak to protest, Caleb consented to the aid, pulling on the robe. After three years it had become a familiar routine, but he still felt shamed by his nakedness and vulnerability, grim reminders he wasn’t wholly human.

  He was tainted. Debased.

  “I’ll be fine after I sleep,” he mumbled.

  Sleep gave him strength, reasserted his humanity. It put everything in perspective for another twenty-nine days until the next full moon. Caleb knew he was going to be hard pressed to appear natural to Arianna later that night. Agreeing to a date so soon after his transformation hadn’t been the brightest thing he’d ever done.

  But there was no going back.

  Chapter 8

  Arianna frowned at her reflection. Why was she making such a fuss over her appearance? It wasn’t like she wanted to impress Caleb. She’d only agreed to the date as payback for his arrogance over the tire. If she had any sense at all, she’d show up looking like she’d just crawled out of bed.

  Except, if she were honest, she wanted him to find her attractive if for no other reason than to refuse his advances. Which was why she’d taken care to match a form-flattering pair of periwinkle capris with heeled sandals and a flirty butternut blouse. She left her hair loose, flowing to her shoulders, gold hoop earrings her only jewelry.

  Snatching her brush from the bedroom dresser, she gave her hair a final sweep. The outfit would do. She was halfway to Weathering Rock before she admitted she was nervous. The last three days had passed in a breeze of planning for Lauren’s party, leaving little time for much else. Now, as she drew closer to the ancient home, she fixated on Caleb, wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

  God, she was such an idiot!

  Where the hell did that thought come from? So what if he was good-looking and had a smoldering old-fashioned personality? He’d told his brother to slash her tire. What kind of sick, controlling person did that?

  The sun was sinking toward the horizon when she pulled up the drive at Weathering Rock. The fading light cast long shadows over the grass and drew eddies of tangerine and gold from the front windows. The house looked different during the day, its three-story height imposing. She hadn’t considered it closely when she’d left Saturday morning, but now realized a series of lightning rods jutted from the roof. They varied in size, some ornate and engraved with elaborate scrollwork, others plain. It made her think of the ball lightning she and Caleb had seen and how reluctant he’d been to acknowledge it.

  She parked at the top of the drive and left her car under a leafy maple. The air was ripe with aromatic scents of summer and evening. Squelching her anxiety, she walked up the steps to the front porch and pressed the doorbell.

  “Arianna.” Caleb smiled when he answered the door, his silver-blue eyes kindled by natural warmth. “It’s good to see you.” He stepped aside, making room for her to enter. “Please, come in.”

  “Thank you.”

  She brushed past him, catching the subtle hint of his aftershave, and the cleaner, lighter scent of soap as if he’d recently showered. He was dressed rather formally in gray trousers and a black button-front shirt open at the throat. The contrast against his white-gold hair was a striking combination of shadow and light. However much she wanted to pretend otherwise, she couldn’t deny her attraction.

  “Is Wyn joining us?”

  “No. He had business in Sagehill and won’t be returning until late.”

  Caleb shut the screen door, but left the interior open for ventilation. She’d noticed on her first visit that central air was one amenity Weathering Rock lacked; the old home probably was not structured for ductwork.

  “Something smells goods,” she commented, catching a tantalizing blend of aromas wafting from the kitchen.

  “I’m afraid I’m not a very good cook. Fortunately Winston has a dinner service.” Caleb slipped his hand beneath her arm and escorted her down the hallway. “I thought since the weather is pleasant, we’d dine outside. I hope you don’t mind. I, uh…” He grimaced. “Have been feeling closed in lately.”

  She studied him and realized his face was drawn, creased with shadow and heavy lines of fatigue. Another headache?

  “Outside is fine.” She secretly enjoyed his presence beside her, and the feel of his fingers around her arm. She thought about drawing away, but what was the harm in accepting the attentions of an attractive man? And there was no question that Caleb–sick or not–was attractive. Damn attractive.

  “This way.” Caleb held the rear door, allowing her to step onto the back porch.

  She blinked, startled by the sight that greeted her.

  White wicker furniture with overstuffed pillows had been grouped around a coffee table of glass and rattan to form an inviting sitting area. Potted plants and hanging baskets overflowing with colorful blooms added a touch of whimsy to the sprawling veranda. Further away, a glass table with a white wicker base had been set with a dinner service for two.

  “This is…” Arianna paused, looking at the blush-colored china, elegant stemware and white taper candles in crystal holders. There was even a vase of freshly cut roses, the creamy pink blooms likely snipped from the bushes on the side of the house. “Lovely.” She had not expected him to do anything so elaborate and wasn’t certain if the romantic setting had been intentional or merely the result of his old-fashioned gentility.

  “I hoped you’d like it.” Caleb moved to a small table where a bottle of wine nestled in an ice bucket. He worked a corkscrew into the top of the bottle. “Can I offer you a drink?”

  “Please.” She set her purse aside. Part of her was tempted to ask why he didn’t bother with one of the newer bottle openers available, but decided the antiquated corkscrew fit his personality. She liked the way it exaggerated the play of muscle up his arm and across his shoulders as he yanked the cork free.

  Noticing her interest, he grinned. “See something you like?”

  Arianna flushed. “What makes you think I’d be interested?”

  “I don’t know.” He turned away to pour wine into two long-stemmed glasses. “I’ve been told I’m marginally good-looking.” His smile thinned. “Even on my worst days.”

  “Arrogant too.” She stepped closer, accepting the glass he offered. Her gaze sharpened, zeroing in on the creases beneath his eyes. “You don’t look good. Maybe this wasn’t the best n
ight for a conciliatory dinner.”

  “Thursday night.” He raised his glass in a toast. “You chose it. I’d be happy if you promoted me to something halfway human before you left.”

  “Mmm. The jury’s still out on that one.” She took a sip of wine, moving toward the porch railing to gaze over the fields beyond. Green and rolling, the ground unfurled as far as she could see. To the left, towering oaks and hemlock surrounded the sloping roofline of a white bank barn. A light breeze brought the scent of sun-warmed grass and sweet clover. It danced across the porch, lifting the hair from her shoulders. Several hundred yards away, a small pond glinted in the fading sun surrounded by dense clumps of milkweed, cattails and rushes. The setting was serene, picturesque as a postcard. Sighing, she closed her eyes in appreciation.

  “It’s beautiful here.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me.”

  She blinked, surprised to find him sitting on the railing facing her, his back to the field. One long leg was planted against the floor, the other bent casually at the knee. She hadn’t heard the tread of his shoes against the plank boards. How had he moved so soundlessly?

  He glanced toward the barn, his collar gaping at the throat. It left the diamond-shaped scar on his neck exposed. “The date stone on the barn reads 1832. The wood has been replaced, but the foundation is original. I imagine the home is just as old.” He grinned as an idea struck him. “Do you like horses?”

  “I–” Arianna hedged. “I don’t know. I’ve never been around them. I don’t dislike them.”

  “Good. Let’s go for a walk.” Caleb offered his hand. The gesture was so natural, she automatically twined her fingers with his. Before she realized what he’d done, he led her from the porch, guiding her down a well-trodden path to the barn. His hand was embracing and warm.

  Too warm, she realized, focusing on the ashen cast of his skin. She was tempted to ask about his headaches, but stifled the urge to pry.

  “Winston isn’t much for horses,” Caleb said as they walked. “He tolerates Ranger, but if it were up to him, he’d convert the barn to additional space for those blasted vehicles he drives.” Releasing her hand, he opened the door. “Personally, I don’t understand the need.”

  If the three-car garage she’d noticed to the west of the house was any indication, Wyn favored more than one car. “What do you drive?”

  “I don’t.”

  She balked. What kind of man didn’t drive? Was he some kind of eco-green conservationist? She was all for preserving the environment, but it was next to impossible to get around the outlying areas of Sagehill without a car.

  “What do you mean you don’t drive?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  She was about to challenge the statement when it dawned on her. His headaches. He probably couldn’t drive, doctor’s orders.

  Caleb opened the barn door and she stepped inside.

  The interior was murky with shadow, permeated by the smell of wood, hay, and leather. A faint odor of manure lingered on the edges. Not entirely unpleasant, it made her think of farm fields and horse-drawn carriages. Fading streams of light speared through random cracks in the walls, trapping dust motes in a sluggish ballet. Caleb activated a switch near the door and the interior was flooded with yellow light.

  “Wow.” Scattered pieces of straw crunched under Arianna’s sandals as she moved further inside. Rope and tack hung from pegs on the walls, side by side with an assortment of small hand tools. She spied a dirt-encrusted shovel, rake and pitchfork. To the right, a wooden ladder led to an overhead loft, littered with straw. Of the four stalls in the barn, only one was occupied. Curious, Arianna stepped nearer.

  She remembered carnival pony rides as a child, her father walking beside her as she’d sat on the swayed back of an ancient, gentle mare. This horse was different: younger, incredibly large and regal looking with a deep chestnut coat, darker mane and tail. It swiveled its head in her direction, regarding her with open curiosity.

  “Say hello to Ranger.” Caleb ran a hand over the long nose of the horse and was rewarded with a soft snort and nudge in the side. “We’ve been together three years. Here.” Taking her wrist, he guided her hand to rest where his had been. The horse bobbed its head, butting against her, offering a gentle nicker as greeting.

  “Lothario,” Caleb chided with affection. “He’s showing off. Flirting with you, the shameless cad.”

  She smiled, enjoying the silky feel of the horse’s coat beneath her fingertips. “He wasn’t hurt, that night on the road?” In her mind, she could still see Caleb as the horse reared, his hair a blaze of pure silver in the headlights. Everything about that evening had seemed surreal, as if she’d flirted on the fringe of make-believe.

  “No. The scoundrel couldn’t make it back to the barn fast enough, never mind he left me lying on the roadside.”

  Arianna giggled at the memory. “You were a sight. For a moment, I thought I’d gotten caught up in some kind of time warp. Between the fog, your horse, and the way you were dressed, I thought I’d taken a turn into the Twilight Zone.”

  “Twilight Zone?” Caleb looked puzzled.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Rod Serling?” Arianna blinked in surprise. “Where have you been the living for the last few decades–under a rock?”

  He grinned. “Sorry.”

  “You’re not one of those PBS-only people are you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Never mind.” She waved the comment aside. “I don’t know why I should be surprised, considering you were wearing a nineteenth century frock coat.”

  “Very good.”

  His grin was back in place, but she could tell he was starting to tire. No headache this time. It wasn’t pain, but fatigue, that made him lean into the stall door. Ranger nudged his shoulder playfully, and Caleb indulged the horse by rubbing behind its ears.

  “The coat was a gift from Winston,” he explained. “I have a strong appreciation for history, particularly the Civil War era. My brother knows that.”

  Arianna thought of the books she’d seen him reading at the library. He’d hit upon one of her favorite subjects, something she could talk about for hours, but didn’t want to appear eager or too friendly. She was growing comfortable with him and that bothered her. Watching how relaxed he was with Ranger made it hard to dislike him.

  “Maybe we should go back to the house. You look like you should sit down.”

  He arched a brow into his bangs. “Am I that obvious?”

  Not quite an admission, but it was close enough. “You look like you don’t feel well.”

  “Stop worrying. I might get the wrong impression and think you care.”

  “I just don’t want any lawsuits. I almost hit you with my car.”

  “So that’s what tonight is about–a bribe?” He was playing, enjoying himself. That much was evident in the amused glint of his eyes. “It’s going to take a lot more than dinner to influence me.”

  “Caleb.” She regarded him sourly. “You are not scoring points with comments like that.”

  He laughed. “Then I better stop before you storm off again. Let’s go back to the house.”

  Arianna was only too happy to return to the porch. She felt safer with the open fields of Weathering Rock around her, less intimated by his closeness. She was beginning to experience the same staggering sense of attraction she’d felt the night they’d met, and mentally chided herself for being charmed so easily.

  He was an attentive host, courtly and considerate even when his natural assertiveness bled through. The evening progressed at a leisurely pace, their dinner crowned by the slowly setting sun. She talked about her career and the upcoming trip to Gettysburg over baked chicken and asparagus spears. When she tried to reverse the discussion and inquire after his background, he grew evasive and changed the subject.

  Determined, she set her fork down. “You retired early,” she said with a pointed glance.

  “I didn’t have a choice.
”

  “I thought given the current state of military affairs…” She let the sentence hang, hoping he would take the hint and be as open with his background as she’d been with hers. When he remained silent, studiously carving a piece of chicken, she plowed ahead. “What exactly did you do in the Army? Or aren’t you allowed to talk about it?”

  “I was in command of a regiment.”

  She tried to do the calculations in her head. “That would make your rank–”

  “Colonel.”

  Arianna balked. At most, she had imagined him a captain. By no means was she an expert on military procedure, but she’d dated a staff sergeant several years ago and knew there were only a handful of full bird colonels in the entire state, all of them over forty. “Aren’t you awfully young to be a colonel?”

  “I’m thirty-three.” Unfazed by the discussion, he took a sip of wine. “I was commissioned a colonel at twenty-eight, and no–given the circumstances, my rank was appropriate.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “It’s difficult to explain.” Caleb pushed away from the table. “I’d rather not talk about it.” He offered his hand and once again she found herself accepting the invitation. While there was nothing defensive in his tone, she sensed finality. He’d ended the discussion.

  Colonel! No wonder he was so damn domineering.

  Together they stepped to the edge of the porch. On the horizon, streaks of magenta, melon and plum faded from the western sky, chased by the deeper violet of twilight. A bevy of fireflies heralded an array of emerging stars and the pale flesh of a full moon. Strung along the exterior of the house, a handful of old-fashioned lanterns drenched the porch in a topaz glow. Caleb’s gaze was riveted on the sky, his brows crimped in concentration. The light haloed his face, accentuating the gauntness of his cheeks.

  Worried, Arianna bit her lip, tightening her fingers around his. “What’s wrong?” He hadn’t been well all evening, but looked worse than before, his face drawn and gray. “Do you have a headache?”

  “No.” That strange luminescent glow glinted on the surface of his eyes, flaring pure silver when he looked at her. “I was studying the moon.”