Barking at the Moon

Home > Other > Barking at the Moon > Page 16
Barking at the Moon Page 16

by Nene Adams


  Annalee was torn between wanting to haul Lunella in for a more serious kiss, and knowing there was no more time for shenanigans. She settled for cupping the side of Lunella’s face. “I like you,” she said. “I like you a lot.”

  “Same here, ’cept I love you, Annalee Crow.” Lunella leaned in again and gently bit her bottom lip. “Ever since the first time I saw you in school, I chose you as my mate. That’d be hard enough for my family to swallow if you were a human male, but Aunt Rachael…anyhow, I never stopped wantin’ you, lovin’ you. Waitin’ for you to see me, to want me, to choose me. I came home for you. Now you’re mine.”

  “Why me?” Annalee asked without thinking. She immediately felt like the world’s neediest, high-maintenance girlfriend. “I mean, how long have you known?”

  “I think I was born in love with you,” Lunella replied with appealing shyness, glancing sidelong at her.

  This can’t be real. Annalee’s palms dampened with nervous sweat. What am I getting into? It was a cherished fantasy of hers, to be with someone who smiled at her like they’d gotten lucky, and now it had happened. She wanted Lunella and she liked her, but everything was moving so fast between them, she found it a little frightening.

  “We don’t really know anything about each other,” she protested, even as she mentally berated herself for sounding so whiny. “We haven’t spent hardly any time together. I mean, a year when we were kids at the same school. How do you know I’m the one?” The clock was ticking, part of her thought. She needed to get her head back into the case, find Dempsey and rescue Bear, but she couldn’t make herself stop the insanity.

  “I swear, Annalee Crow, you’re as obstinate as a mule!” Lunella said, giving her a light smack on the arm. “I know who my mate is, and that’s you. You’re mine.”

  “What if I don’t want to be yours?” Annalee asked quietly.

  Instead of being hurt, Lunella pinned her with a topaz-bright gaze and said, “You’re mine. Wiggle all you want, you know I’m right. You’ve dreamed us together.”

  “Wait…you know about my dreams?” Annalee found the notion hot but also somewhat embarrassing.

  Lunella nodded. “It happens when mates find each other. You didn’t realize it back then ’cause we was kids, but I knew. So did Aunt Rachael.”

  “So you’re responsible for those—”

  “Yeah, kind of.” Lunella ducked her head shyly. “Did you like it?”

  Annalee scrambled to make sense of what she’d heard and experienced. “So we were…you know, really together? In my dreams?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And you got sent to Canada after graduation, which is why I stopped having them.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “But when you came back, I had another one.”

  Lunella gave her a smug smirk. “Uh-huh.”

  “And that makes us mates?” Annalee asked weakly. “Honey, I’m not sure—”

  “Look, when we touch each other, you don’t feel alone ’cause I’m not just using you to get off,” Lunella said, looking at her intently. “I love you. Those women you went with in the city, they could touch your body, but they never, ever touched any other part of you, did they? That’s the difference. I’ll take care of all your parts, every one, and I’ll never stop till the day I die. We mate for life, you know. That’s our way. That’s my way.”

  Such a level of devotion left Annalee breathless. What reply could she possibly make to such a declaration? Wolves mate for life. The prospect should have been terrifying, but she felt warm, as if she had stepped from a rainstorm into summer sunshine. On an instinctive level, she understood Lunella would forgive every sin she committed and would never reject her, not for any reason, no matter what. She was beloved.

  It was insane. It was impossible. There were so many reasons not to do this, she couldn’t list them all. Lunella was looking at her, and the love she read in the woman’s face made her heart flutter. “Fine,” she said breathlessly. “You can take care of my parts.”

  Giving Annalee an approving smile, Lunella shucked out of her clothes, her outline shimmering as she changed to her other form.

  Between one heartbeat and the next, a wolf crouched on the seat next to her, showing a brief gleam of teeth. Annalee took a really careful look at the wolf, seeking the familiar, and found Lunella’s eyes laughing back at her from the furry face. Finally, she plunged both hands into the thick ruff and scratched, letting the surrealness of the moment wash over and through her. This is my girlfriend. This is my mate. Testing the words in her mind wasn’t as weird as she feared.

  Lunella whined and pushed a cold wet nose against her wrist, obviously seeking comfort.

  “Yeah, yeah, it’s okay,” Annalee said, responding to Lunella’s distress, which she read in the flattening of ears against the broad skull and the plumed tail’s droop. “I’m okay, honest, I swear,” she continued. “I’m not freaking out any more. It’s cool.”

  Lunella’s ears went up and her tail whisked through the air twice. The sound she made wasn’t quite a bark, but it sounded extremely loud in the confines of the cruiser.

  “Ease up, there, no need to shout,” Annalee said, her ears ringing. “Come on, let’s go find your brother, kick Dempsey’s ass, get this over with, go home and canoodle.”

  She opened the driver’s side door and slid out of the vehicle, waiting for Lunella to follow. Once the wolf was on the ground, she was able to discern just how startlingly huge Lunella was in her fur form, at least three times bigger than an average Catahoula hound. She hadn’t been in the right frame of mind to notice Lunella’s size back at the Skinner house. A tidbit from a high-school science class flitted through her mind—the law of conservation of mass. Lunella’s form may have changed, but no matter her shape, her mass would have to remain constant since matter couldn’t be gained or lost in the transition from human to wolf.

  No wonder Lunella’s super-sized when she’s got her fur coat on, and whoo, boy, I’d better keep my pie-hole shut about that. Telling your girlfriend her outfit makes her look larger than life is probably a good way to end up banished to the sofa.

  Annalee retrieved her flashlight, a comfortable and reassuring weight in her hand. While Lunella cast around, her head low, her nose questing for scent, she glanced in the direction of the mansion. In the night at this distance, little could be seen of the house except a vague outline and several yellow rectangles of light indicating windows. The nighttime hush was broken by the rhythmic buzz of cicadas, the scrabble of Lunella’s paws on the gravel, the call of a whippoorwill.

  A shiver traveled cold down her spine. She almost stumbled when Lunella was suddenly there, pressing against her shins. “You got something?” she asked.

  Lunella rubbed against her knee in a distinct up-and-down motion.

  “Okay, you take point, I got your six,” she said, flicking on the flashlight.

  Lunella huffed and started walking, her pace quick, but within Annalee’s limitations.

  She concentrated on the bushy tail swinging just ahead of her and kept sweeping her flashlight’s bright white beam over the ground to avoid falling over roots or stepping into holes as they left the driveway and continued over the grounds.

  Lunella stopped, nudged her and disappeared into the darkness in a split second.

  Annalee clicked off the flashlight and stayed in place, waiting for the wolf to reappear. Every sound dug under her skin, twanging her nerves—a breeze rattling through tree branches, a rabbit or other small animal scurrying in the bushes, the soft rush of owl’s wings swooping above her head. After what seemed like an eternity but was probably only a minute or two, she felt a cold wet muzzle thrust into her free hand.

  Turning on the flashlight, she politely avoided shining the beam into Lunella’s eyes. “Well?” she whispered. When Lunella gave her a disgusted look, she realized the stupidity of expecting a verbal answer and tried to formulate a better question. “You got a bead on Bear?”

  Lu
nella nodded.

  Annalee didn’t think Cutshall had hired guards on the property, but her police-trained instincts pinged furiously for attention. The last thing she needed was to get shot for trespassing or be caught by a rent-a-cop. That would make headlines for certain and likely prompt an inquiry from the commissioner which had the potential to damage not only herself, but the Skinners too—a situation to be avoided at all costs.

  “Anybody else around?” she asked.

  A shake of Lunella’s head this time. The thick ruff took on a dandelion fluffiness that tempted Annalee to run her fingers through it. She resisted, however, limiting herself to a single light stroke that barely ruffled the wolf’s fur.

  With Lunella again taking the lead, Annalee soon stood outside a barn-like structure. As far as she knew, Cutshall bred racehorses and also kept a couple of ponies for the grandchildren to ride, so this was either the stable or hay storage. The door opened on well-oiled hinges without a creak, leaving her thanking God for WD-40 and diligent employees.

  Inside, she found the expected bales of hay, neatly stacked, and sacks of animal feed, bins, barrels and buckets and some farm equipment. No horses. Not the stable. Storage.

  Lunella stuck a nose behind her knee and shoved.

  “Hey!” Annalee regained her balance by windmilling her arms.

  She swung the flashlight around, the beam illuminating Lunella’s hindquarters. They pawed at the floor, pushing loose straw away from a trapdoor with a metal ring in the center.

  Annalee knelt, playing the light over the door’s surface before pulling on the ring. The door opened. Bits of straw and dust floated in the air, glinting in the flashlight’s beam. Glancing into the hole, she saw a set of narrow steps. She looked at Lunella. “That’s pretty steep, honey. Can you manage?”

  Lunella nodded, the motion stiff and jerky, obviously unnatural to her current form.

  Annalee gasped when the wolf started down the steps, accompanied by the muted clicking sound of nails on hardwood.

  Checking a tread for signs of stress, she found marks in the wood that seemed definitely claw-like. She hoped Lunella hadn’t damaged the seat upholstery in the SUV. That would be a bitch to explain on the Repairs to Vehicles authorization form.

  She had to turn off the flashlight and tuck it into her belt loop, needing both hands to help guide her way down the steps, which were not only narrow, but steep enough to make her calf muscles burn from the acute angle.

  The air was clammy and unpleasant, tickling like spider webs against her face. She counted twenty-two steps to the bottom—a bare concrete floor. She checked the corners of the ceiling and the nearby walls for the telltale lights of security or alarm systems and found nothing. If Dempsey was hiding out here, he seemed confident about not being caught in his bolthole, or perhaps he was too far gone to care.

  Lunella’s growl caught her attention. Annalee put on the flashlight, keeping the beam tilted toward the floor. The wolf stood rigidly in place, a ridge of hair along the spine raised in a clear threat display. She touched the butt of her gun and listened intently but heard nothing apart from Lunella’s growling, which was increasing in volume.

  She risked putting a hand on Lunella’s head, not wanting to startle her. “Show me where Bear’s being held,” she said, pitching her voice low. “We’ll take him home.”

  Lunella shivered, but obeyed, adopting a stiff-legged pace that spoke eloquently of her distress and barely controlled rage. Annalee walked at Lunella’s side, resting her palm against the wolf’s back while they moved in tandem.

  A dim light shone at the end of the corridor, growing brighter when they came closer. She clicked off the flashlight, tucked it into her belt loops and drew her .38 revolver. She hoped she wouldn’t be forced to use it…but whatever Dempsey’s doing, it ends tonight.

  She heard a man’s voice coming from around the corner and halted, listening.

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” the man ranted. His voice was unfamiliar to her, his accent no slurred southern drawl, but sharp and staccato, somewhat nasal, definitely originating from Up North. She supposed the speaker was Dempsey. “I told them not to take the serum. I told them it wasn’t ready. I need more time, damn it!”

  She heard shuffling sounds.

  Dempsey continued, “Need more silver soon. Mmm, yes, I’m sure that doesn’t hurt anymore. Just be still and let it happen.” Another pause lasting a few heartbeats. When he spoke again, his tone was fretful. “Where the hell is Cutshall? I need that helicopter. Have to get out of here. Have to go…” He trailed off on an unintelligible mumble.

  Lunella’s snarl was thunderous and shocking in its intensity. The wolf whipped around the corner, fangs bared, ruff standing out like a lion’s mane.

  Annalee made a snatch at Lunella’s tail, missed and skidded after her, entering the room in a half-crouch, her .38 held in front of her.

  The first thing she saw was Lunella darting at a man, her jaws snapping.

  Dempsey. He managed to dodge the bite and lunged toward a shotgun leaning against a stainless steel examination table.

  Annalee shouted, “Police! Surrender your weapon! Do it now!”

  Distracted, he turned in her direction. She caught a snapshot glimpse of his face—an average looking guy, early forties, brown hair thinning from a high forehead, no visible distinguishing marks, eyeglasses. His mouth opened so wide in surprise, she saw the gray amalgam fillings in his back molars.

  He screamed when Lunella took advantage of his momentary paralysis to rip into his leg above the knee, tearing a slash in his jeans and the flesh beneath. Blood spurted, speckling her fur with crimson, dying her muzzle red.

  Annalee felt like she was losing control of the situation. She tamped down the urge to panic and said, “Lunella, stop! Stop it right now! Get away from him!”

  Growling horribly, Lunella backed away, but not very far.

  Dempsey edged toward the shotgun.

  She aimed her weapon at him. “Don’t go there, sir. I mean it. I will shoot.”

  “I’m…I’m defending myself,” he gasped, “against that…the animal.”

  She dug into her pants pocket and pulled out a bandanna. Tossing it at him, she said, “Tie that around your wound and step away from the shotgun. It’s loaded with silver, right?”

  Dempsey’s eyes went huge behind his gold-rimmed glasses. “How’d you know?” he whispered while pressing the bandanna to the slash in his leg.

  “I know everything, Mr. Dempsey.” Not the whole truth, but she knew that admitting she remained in the dark about some aspects of the case wouldn’t be productive. Her father had taught her to always portray herself as omniscient. Many suspects were compelled to tell their story if they believed the police already had the answers.

  “It’s doctor, not mister, and I doubt that.” Dempsey called her bluff. “You know about the creatures, certainly, but the rest…” He gave her an unpleasant smirk.

  Annalee controlled her shudder. Dempsey gave off an air of unwholesomeness, and his smile was a sharp thing, ready to slice. She would bet he was the type who tortured pets and set fires just to find out what happened next. “Why don’t you prove me wrong?”

  Lunella’s not-quite bark sounded insistent.

  She carefully shifted part of her attention to the wolf but kept her gun aimed at Dempsey, who still lingered too close to the shotgun for her comfort.

  Lunella moved to another part of the room—the laboratory, Annalee corrected herself, since the space was jam-packed with scientific equipment she figured had cost Abner Cutshall a good chunk of his net worth. She also made out a series of cages lined up along the back wall. Cages big enough to contain a wolf as large as Lunella.

  The thought of Lunella confined sent an uncontrollable rush of anger through her. She took her finger off the trigger, pushing down the urge to eliminate the threat Dempsey represented. Exactly what she was going to do with him, she didn’t know, but shooting him out of hand wasn’t an option.
Not yet anyway, she thought grimly.

  Stopping beside a cage, Lunella pawed at the door.

  Annalee took a step to the side to get a better view and realized the cage wasn’t empty. It contained a pale furred form. Bear, she supposed. She tracked the dark red plastic line snaking out between the bars to an IV pouch on a stand. The pouch was approximately half filled with blood.

  Catching a movement in the corner of her eye, she shifted to cover Dempsey with her weapon. “I told you, don’t go there,” she said to him. “Put that shotgun out of your mind. I will shoot you, and I will claim self-defense. You think I don’t have a throw-down gun in my car? You think I can’t close this case any damned way I please?” Again, what she said wasn’t strictly true, but it made for an effective threat. “This is my jurisdiction, not Abner Cutshall’s. He can’t protect you if he’s under a grand jury investigation himself.”

  “Listen to me, you have to listen to me,” Dempsey said, sounding desperate. Blood leaked past his knuckles where he had his hand clamped against the wound in his leg. The soaked bandanna lay abandoned on the floor. “I need him; I need more of them. The creatures…they’re the key to immortality. Surely you can see that! They’re just animals. The benefits to mankind—”

  “Bubba, you’re just about a cunt hair shy of full-tilt-boogie insane,” Annalee said, shaking her head in disgust. “People are people, no matter what they look like or what they believe in. Your kind of thinking built the concentration camps and gas chambers, and I am not going to allow you to do the same in my county. Besides, ain’t nobody supposed to live forever, least of all rich bastards who’re afraid of dying ’cause they know they did a lot wrong and not much right on this earth. Money can’t buy salvation.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he sneered. “God created man with built-in obsolescence, but I can change that.”

  “Put your hands behind your head and turn around. Do it, Dempsey. I ain’t gonna ask nice again. Don’t be stupid. Hands behind your head, and we’ll all just walk away from here, have us a little talk down at the sheriff’s office.” She may have left her badge in the cruiser—and wasn’t that a gesture as useless as tits on a boar hog since she still wore her uniform—but she hadn’t gotten rid of her duty belt or the pair of handcuffs hanging on it.

 

‹ Prev